


Melting the Ice

by xBlackQuillx



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American high school system in Russia because why not, Anxiety, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, High School, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Sorry, M/M, Panic Attacks, Protective Victor Nikiforov, Protective Yuri Plisetsky, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Build, Smut, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat, i apologise in advance, sexy katsudon, still ice skating though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-10-29 17:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10858353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xBlackQuillx/pseuds/xBlackQuillx
Summary: Yuuri moves to Russia and enrols into Feltsman's Academy, soon to discover that his new school has an old, barely used ice rink. He decides to make it his new sanctuary, only to find out that it's owned by another keen figure skater with silver hair...





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction so constructive criticism is welcome!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading it :)

 

Yuuri pressed his hand against the chilled glass of the plane window, his hazel eyes grazing over the sight of his hometown of Hasetsu, silently saying his goodbye's as the aircraft lifted off from the ground. Having never been a fan of heights, he subconsciously gripped his seat belt and broke his eyes away from all he'd ever known, to fix his stare on the flashing turbulence sign a few rows in front of him.

'What am I doing?' He sighed, trying to gather his thoughts about the fact that he was actually leaving Japan.

He had made his decision to move to Russia just a month prior, after a heated debate with his parents as to why he was convinced that completing his education abroad, strengthening his Russian and remaining in the country would help boost his presence in the ice skating community. He loved skating, and had been doing it practically since he could walk, but never did he imagine that he'd be able to have a shot at making his dream a reality. His parents hadn't been overly supportive of the idea at first but, Minako had stepped in and argued his case for him, causing an eventual agreement.

'A life in Russia, huh?' He sank into his seat, overly conscious of the man next to him, mindlessly scrolling through social media. The hum of the plane remained in the back of his mind as he placed his head in his palm, knocking his glasses slightly askew, his fringe dangling over the frames. To his delight, the motion of the plane, much like a car, lulled him into a daze, his lips slightly parted as he slipped into broken dreams of Russia, katsudon and ice skating...

\---------

He was awoken by the shuffling of the man next to him, who had stood up to search for his hand held luggage in the compartment above.

Yuuri's glasses had fallen into his lap and a small trail of drool had crept from the corner of his mouth. He frowned, a blush forming on his face as he placed his glasses back on and suddenly realised that he'd actually slept through landing.

'Trust me to sleep like an idiot through something like turbulence... oh no, what if I snored?' Yuuri silently panicked while he gathered his backpack that he'd dejectedly shoved under his seat, after realising he'd have to sit next to someone on the plane and hadn't wanted to go through the embarrassment of dropping something in front of the man he'd be awkwardly squished against for ten hours.

He tugged the bag strap over his shoulder and made a brief exit out of the aircraft. Luckily, his baggage didn't take long to appear on the carousel and he reached for it quickly, not wanting to miss it somehow for some stupid reason.

With his baggage, he used his limited knowledge of Russian to make his way out of the airport. As he stepped through the glass door, the chill hit him. He breathed out, his breath showing in the coldness of the air. He let his rucksack drop onto the crook of his elbow and then lowered it onto the pavement, unzipping it to then search of a scarf. His efforts were fruitful as he pulled out the navy blue material from underneath his printed out information about St. Petersburg, which he folded messily before shoving it into his coat pocket and wrapping the scarf haphazardly around his neck and lower face.

With his backpack now back on his shoulder and his luggage safe in hand, he hailed a taxi.

He tried his best to communicate in Russian, his accent almost too thick for the driver to understand as he shook his head in confusion. Eventually, Yuuri just handed him a piece of paper with the address of the apartment he would be renting scribbled onto it. Thankfully, the man then nodded, handing back the paper to Yuuri, waiting for him to buckle in and then working his way into the heavy stream of traffic. 

It was late afternoon and the sky was tinted a warm orange that seeped through from behind the clouds. He spent the journey observing everything around him, trying to get to grips with the fact that this was his new home. He zoned out as the streets blurred by, the Japanese boy unable to read half the shop signs, partly due to his limited knowledge of the language and partly due to the speed at which the taxi driver was now moving, having finally escaped the relentless grip of the airport traffic.

After forty minutes or so, the taxi came to a halt outside an average-looking collection of flats. They seemed pleasant enough, just rather grey, Yuuri thought as he thanked the driver and handed him a fairly large amount of cash to pay the fair.

Yuuri made his way down the path to the entrance to the block of flats but stopped at the door as he realised that he needed a code to get in.

'What the...' he thought, staring at the pin pad blankly before remembering that the landlord had sent him the code in an email. He mentally kicked himself before punching the code '4321' into the pad and smiling to himself at the highly complicated security devices that the building had provided.

He was half tempted to stick around and see if any of his new neighbours appeared, but then quickly resolved that he'd prefer to avoid social interaction for the moment and just find his new home, and sleep.

He looked around the lobby, and his eyes landed on a mail rack. He dragged his suitcase with him toward it, the wheels squeaking against the lino floor that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a while. He scanned the name tags on each tray carefully, but not too slowly, in case someone caught sight of him staring for too long and assuming he couldn't read. Eventually, he found 'Katsuki' written under the number '68'. He slid the tray out, taking the key to his new flat from it, and looking at the map next to him, he saw that flat 68 was on the fifth floor.

'There'd better be an elevator in this place,' he mumbled to himself in Japanese.

There was.

But it was out of order.

With a groan of annoyance, he eyed up his rather large suitcase and reluctantly grabbed the handle, preparing himself to have to drag it up five flights of stairs.

By the second floor, he was panting, and by the fourth floor, sweat was trickling down the side of his face, his black hair curling at the tips from exertion.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally arrived at the top of the stairs. Panting, he traipsed down the long corridor, looking for number 68.

He could hear a baby crying from flat 55, and an argument from number 62. Hoping that there'd be no major disruption around his own flat, he finally arrived outside number 68. 

He let his damned suitcase drop to the floor and fumbled with the key in his sweaty palms, shoving it into the lock and twisting it with a satisfying 'click'.

Yuuri pushed the door open, which creaked as the hinges scraped against each other. He grabbed his suitcase handle once more and dragged it inside, before shutting the door behind him, flicking the lights on and unceremoniously dumping both his bags onto the faded blue carpet. The walls, were white, though cracked in places, but Yuuri didn't mind. He shuffled down the little hallway by the door and opened the first door to his left, which was a bathroom, large enough to fit around two and a half people. He then moved back into the hall, where he saw that he kitchen and living room where open plan and created a reasonably large open space. Behind the sofa was another door, through which he found his new bedroom. The bed was a double at the very least and there was a cupboard and nightstand to fill the rest of the rather limited space.

He flopped onto the sofa and let his head rest on the cushions, one arm placed over his forehead and he released a long sigh.

'Home... home.' he half whispered to nobody.

It then hit him properly.

Tomorrow, his life in Russia started, and more importantly, so did his first day at his new school.

Never in his life had Yuuri imagined he'd be going to such a fancy school as what Feltsman's seemed to be. Images that he'd seen on their website began to flash through his head and he suddenly felt nervous.

'What if no one likes me? What if they laugh at me for not knowing Russian well enough? What if I embarrass myself?' 

The thoughts whirled around himself before stood up, as though physically suppressing his own anxieties.

He decided to head to the shower and then go out and grab himself something to eat, mainly to familiarise himself with his surroundings and also because he realised how starving he actually was.

Upon his return, he was once again sweating from his trip up those wretched stairs.

He ate alone before realising that he was in fact alone, in a foreign country.

He swallowed forcefully before laying clothes out for the next day, changing into pyjamas and sliding into bed. The feeling was unnatural and he found himself tossing and turning as he willed sleep to take him. Eventually though, exhaustion from his long flight and multiple trips up the stairs caused a pleasant numb feeling to take over his body and his eyelids finally fluttered closed, his thick eyelashes resting on his pale skin, his chest rising and falling steadily.

 

 

 


	2. Feltsman's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's kickstarts his first day at Feltsman's after a hectic journey just to get through the gates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support on chapter 1! That made me so happy :)
> 
> I just want to explain the school thing going on here. Essentially, it's an American high school, with English features (as that's all I know), in Russia. Don't worry, I don't get it either haha
> 
> Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes - I did proof read but I don't know if I caught everything

 

The bedroom was still.

Yuuri's chest rose and fell peacefully, his faced looked calm as he remained in a pleasant dreaming state, only subconsciously aware that he had not been flown back to the safe haven of his childhood home over night.

All of a sudden, his phone started vibrating on the table next to him, jolting him awake with a gasp. He lent on one arm and reached for the mobile with the other and squinted at the screen. Without his glasses, he could just about make out the blurred text that read:

"Wake up kid!! Don't wanna be late, do you? ;)" - Minako

He smiled to himself without realising, and reached for his glasses. He went to type a reply when he reread the message...

"School!" he shouted to himself as he shoved his glasses the rest of the way up the bridge of his nose and checked the time. It read '07:18'.

Feltsman's opened at 8am, sharp.

Without really processing it in his mind, he rolled out of bed, threw his phone onto the mattress and ripped his shirt off, letting it fly into some other corner of the room. He stumbled out of his sweats and then went hurrying into the main room, nearly tripping over the couch in the dark. He cautiously shuffled his way down the hallway and flicked on the light, the bulb flickering weakly into life. Cursing himself for not setting an alarm, he ran over to the sofa and collected the clothes he'd planned to wear on his first day at Feltsman's; tugging his arms into a blue button up shirt and messily clasping the buttons, he jumped into some black jeans and slipped his shoes on.

He decided food could wait as he rummaged around in his suitcase for a comb. Upon it's location, he ripped it through his dark hair quickly, taking a mental note that he needed to cut it.

He went to get his phone from where he'd thrown it and checked the time once more.

'07:27'.

"Half an hour's enough, right?" Yuuri weakly tried to convince himself that he'd be on time but it wasn't overly successful.

He grabbed his rucksack, opened it and shook out the contents, hoping there was nothing too fragile inside. Once all his belongings were scattered over the carpet, he shoved what he thought he might need back into the bag, like his wallet, a notepad, pen and scarf. He shrugged his coat over his shoulders and patted the pockets to relocate his key. He could feel the outline and so made a break for the door, switching the light back off with such force that he thought for a moment that he'd ripped the socket out of the wall. 

Yuuri locked his flat door quickly and then ran down the hallway, dodging his neighbours who were milling around outside, and apologising in Japanese every few seconds to make up for his ungraceful first appearance. They started after him, with no idea who he was and with no idea as to what he was saying.

"Ah dammit I forgot about these stairs", Yuuri sighed, as he rapidly approached the death trap. 

With no time to spare, he leaped down the stairs, three at a time, to make his exit of the building faster.

As he reached the bottom, he saw an old man trying to slide out a mail tray that was clearly jammed. Yuuri skidded to a stop and turned on his heel. He new the time would cost him but, he approached the man and gestured to the tray. The man instantly knew he was a foreigner, and so didn't attempt to speak to him, but instead offered a warm smile as Yuuri yanked open the draw, a pile of leaflets flying out like a paper blizzard. 

Yuuri awkwardly returned the smile and waved as he turned to continue his race out of the flats.

'Why did you wave, you idiot?' He thought to himself.

'You can't make everyone you meet think you're a weirdo'

He slid to a stop once more, looking around frantically in search of a bus stop. He then remembered that he had no idea what bus he'd even have to get, but then silently thanked his past self, who'd written down some messy instructions that would guide future Yuuri to Feltsman's.

With said paper in hand, which he pulled out of his coat pocket, he followed the instructions and ran to the nearest bus stop.

It had just pulled in.

The doors slid open and Yuuri practically flung himself inside the vehicle, his shoes squeaking on the recently disinfected floor. He opened his bag and dug out his wallet, handing over some money to the bus driver, who was eyeing him up carefully, an unimpressed look spread on his face.

Although Yuuri hadn't realised, his shirt was buttoned unevenly, his fly was down and his left shoes were unlaced. How classy.

Nonetheless, his money was accepted and Yuuri made his way down the bus, heading straight to the back. He settled himself into a seat by the window and released a breath that he didn't know he was holding. Now that he was finally in a position to collect his thoughts, he looked down at himself and almost had a heart attack.

He'd flung himself onto the bus like a hopeless child flailing after his mother while also looking like he didn't know how to dress himself.

Yuuri glanced around him, checking that no one was looking his way. 

But, to his dismay, a boy sat further down the bus, was facing his direction, in one of those annoying seats that allowed the awkward possibility of making eye contact with strangers.

The boy looked young, though his eyes were like ice. Blonde hair fell around his face, almost like a girl's, but the smirk on his face was far from feminine.

Yuuri pulled his scarf further over his face, his cheeks burning.

The boy, still smirking, seemed to mimic Yuuri, by pulling the hood of his black and leopard print hood up over his head. He then crossed his thin legs, showing off his red leopard print shoes.

'This kid really like leopards...' Yuuri thought, looking away timidly, not wanting to meet the blonde's cold eyes again.

Realising that he still hadn't sorted his wardrobe malfunction, he tried to slyly pull up the zip on his trousers and readjust his shirt buttons.

He heard leopard boy choke.

Yuuri's head snapped up, to see that the other boy was staring at him intensely, finding great amusement in this foreign boy's struggle.

The colour in Yuuri's face spread further down and into neck as he made a point of fixating his eyes on other things blurring past outside the window.

Another few minutes passed as he wished earnestly that the bus journey would just come to an end, desperate to escape the cold glaze of the Russian punk.

That's what he was, a little punk with no manners.

Yuuri felt like he had permission to call him that, considering the boy's youth - he must have only been around thirteen.

Unable to take anymore, he unfolded his piece of paper. The stop that the bus was approaching was displayed on a screen at the front of the bus, and Yuuri noticed it was one stop before Feltsman's. 

'Ugh, screw it, I'll just get off here,' Yuuri decided, disappointed in himself for being intimidated with a boy dressed as an emo cat.

He stood up and pinged the bell on the back of the handle bar to his left and the bus came to an abrupt stop. As he walked down the isle, the blonde locked his eyes onto Yuuri's. 

"S-Sorry..." Yuuri muttered, for absolutely no reason before storming off the bus and kicking his foot into the pavement (discretely, of course).

He checked his phone, thinking he'd still have around ten minuets to get to Feltsman's. Alas, the time read '07:54'.

"Oh sweet Jesus," Yuuri breathed out, breaking into a sprint, holding his bag onto his shoulder.

Good thing he had a high stamina.

Thankfully, a red sign saying 'FELTSMAN'S SCHOOL' came into view, and he powered on in the direction the arrow was pointing.

Eventually, a sharp turn right brought him flying through the tall, black gates of Feltsman's.

The front courtyard was vast, a fountain dominating the front view of the school. The building looked old, comprised of stone and large windows, it was rather impressive really and Yuuri felt slightly taken aback.

He thought to himself why he couldn't see any other students. The grounds were empty and the only living things he saw were some ducks settled on a neatly mowed lawn beside him.

As he walked toward the steps that spiralled up to the grand entrance of the school, his breath returning to him, a high pitched, long ringing sound shook through the building and spilled onto the grounds.

"No, no, no, that's the bell," Yuuri broke into a run for what felt like the fiftieth time that day.

Crashing through the doors, he was met by a tall, gracefully aged woman. Her hair was pulled back tightly around her face into a bun and her eyes met Yuuri's in a vice like grip.

"Mr Katsuki?" She inquired, her voice was sharp and her accent was thick.

Yuuri swallowed nervously before straightening his back and and subconsciously pushing his glasses further up his nose.

He cleared his throat before replying, with wavering confidence, "yes... Miss"

She tapped her watch, about to say something, before another man entered through a door to the left of the foyer, accompanied by a boy who Yuuri assumed was a student. The two approached Yuuri and the woman, the man's gaze as hard as stone and the boy smiling brightly.

"Welcome, Yuuri. My name is Yakov Feltsman, the headteacher of this school." 

Yakov gestured to the woman, "this is Miss Baranovskaya, deputy headteacher and literature teacher."

Baranovskaya nodded.

"I hope you will be comfortable here Yuuri. You're not the first foreign student to come to this school but, I admit your reasons for joining in your application were... unique."

Yuuri smiled nervously and rubbed the back of his head, "aha, thank you, Sir, I hope to enjoy myself too."

'Stupid, Yuuri, why would you say that?' He mentally kicked himself.

Yakov made a noncommittal grunt before turning to the smiley boy next to him. The boy in question was shifting his weight across both feet in anticipation, his glance switching between Yakov and Yuuri.

"This is Phichit Chulanont. He transferred to Feltsman's from Thailand a year an a half a go so we figured that he would be the best person to show you around. For today, we will allow you to just familiarise yourself with the school but I expect you to be here, ready, and on time tomorrow morning."

With emphasis on "on time", Yakov gestured for Miss Baranovskaya to follow him, and they both left, leaving Yuuri and Phichit in the foyer together. Phichit immediately relaxed and burst into an animated introduction.

"Omg so you must be Yuuri! It's sooo good to meet you, you are just going to love this place!!" The Thai boy's enthusiasm was strong and Yuuri wasn't sure whether it was because he was told by Yakov to big up the school, or whether he really thought it was just that amazing here.

"Aha, thanks..." Yuuri laughed weakly, before Phichit grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him through the foyer.

"So... I'll show you the canteen, the gym, the sports hall, the fields, the benches round the back where I feed my hamster, the pool, the abandoned ice rink, the-"

Phichit's extensive rambling was cut off by Yuuri, who stopped walking and looked Phichit straight in the eye. His heart picked up the pace and his hazel eyes sparkled at the words he'd just heard.

"There's an ice rink?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you go, what do you think?
> 
> Who is the boy on the bus?  
> What will the ice rink be like?  
> Will Yuuri like his new school?
> 
> Tbh, if you haven't figured out who the boy on the bus is yet then... I don't know what to say 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter!! :)


	3. Hidden Eros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri manages to get on the ice. 
> 
> But does he notice a mysterious, silver haired boy slip into the building after him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day, huh? Wow, I need sleep.

 

Phichit stared at Yuuri for a moment.

"Yeah... there's an old ice rink up in the north side of one of the fields..." The Thai boy was confused at Yuuri's sudden ouburst.

"Do you skate?" He asked simply, though the answer should have been obvious.

"Do I skate? I've been skating since I could walk! Though I didn't expect there to be a rink here..." Phichit smiled at Yuuri, liking the fact that his new friend had such enthusiasm for something like skating, he only knew of one other person in the school who actually skated.

He pulled Yuuri on, telling him that he'd take him to all the "basic, boring places" first and then to the ice rink last. Yuuri had initially protested but, once Phichit had insisted that once they got the rink, Yuuri could stay there for as long as he wanted, he relented. He had to admit to himself that the tour of the school was helpful and he liked the traditional settings of the modern canteen, gym and other classrooms. It really was a nice school.

As they walked, Phichit rambled on about his hamsters and other aspects of Feltsman's school life. Yuuri wasn't really focusing until his tour guide's tone changed.

"... and of course you'll have to look out for bullies."

"Bullies?" Yuuri turned his eyes to the floor. Bullies were not people that he was unfamiliar with, and their 'jokes' and 'banter' and 'light punches' were responsible for a lot of his anxieties. He had hoped that a new start would help relieve him of some of that burden, but it looked like he was going to have to tread carefully... again.

Phichit sensed Yuuri's discomfort.

"When I first started here," he began, stitching his eyebrows together as he searched for the right words, "I tried to make friends with everyone... y'know, to be friendly, but Mikhailov and his little gang decided that they didn't want my friendship and weren't afraid to let me know." He tried to sound indifferent but the hurt in his voice was there.

Yuuri looked at him, "I'm sorry that happened to you... Back in Japan, people would make fun of me for loving to skate so much, they found it funny and decided to make my life hell."

"What did they do?" Phichit asked carefully, strongly empathising with the new student.

"I'd... I'd rather not talk about it, sorry," he replied, clenching his fists.

Phichit nodded understandingly before smiling. "Want to go and see the rink now?"

"It's about time!" Yuuri laughed, shaking off his feelings of discomfort and filling his mind with thoughts of ice skating.

Phichit lead Yuuri out of the school building, pointing out his hamster-feeding station as they walked. He hadn't even explained where he kept said hamsters or where they came from, but Yuuri just rolled with it and allowed himself to be taken down a slightly overgrown path that didn't match the rest of the pristine school. The grass was taller and had grown into the cracks of the slabs and wild flowers were beginning to bloom. The ice rink building itself didn't look too old. Sure, it was a bit rundown but Yuuri could tell it could be cleaned up to become quite impressive. "Well... here we are," Phichit waved his hand out in front of the building, just in case Yuuri couldn't see it.

"It's always unlocked so don't worry about having to find a key."

Yuuri just nodded as he waited for his extremely slow friend to just open the damn door. Eventually, he did, and he went traipsing in behind the Thai boy, his heart swelling as Phichit turned all of the lights on. On the inside, the rink looked like it had never been abandoned. The only sign of vandalism was a piece of graffiti displaying a certain part of the male anatomy. Phichit saw him observing it and laughed, "charming, huh?"

Yuuri walked round into one of the locker rooms and looked around at the blue and white colour theme. He dropped his stuff to the floor and took his coat off, removing his glasses and placing them on top of the soft material.

"Woah, Yuuri, we just met! You sure you're not going to fast?" Phichit joked and then laughed. Yuuri blushed, and defended himself, "no, no! That's not it," and in a smaller voice he added, unconvincingly, "I'm not even gay..."

Phichit ignored his last comment and gestured out the door, "there's skates on shelves in the room next door so feel free to grab a pair," he was then pushed slightly against the door frame as Yuuri scrambled for out of it, trying to pull his shoes off at the same time. He was too excited about the thought of finally getting back on the ice that he didn't hear his friend tell him that he had to go and feed his hamsters, and would see him the next day. He grabbed some skates in his size and headed down into the rink and sat down in one of the seats to lace them up. They weren't the most comfortable, but they would be adequate until he found his own skates in the bottom of his suitcase. He stood up, supporting himself on the side of the seat and reached into his pocket for his phone, looking around for a sound system.

Once he found it, he carefully walked over to it and plugged in his phone. He had set a two minute silence break at the beginning of the track to allow himself to get back to the ice.

As soon as he stepped onto it, he felt its chill and relaxed. It had been at least a week since he'd skated due to the chaos of preparing to move to Russia, and hadn't found himself with any free time.

He glided to the centre of the rink, and then drifted in circles, familiarising himself with both the skates and the foreign ice. He wasn't wearing the best clothes for skating, but that didn't matter. He positioned himself in anticipation for the start of the music; he would be skating to a song called 'Eros', that explored sexual love and intimacy. You could argue that it was an interesting choice for someone like Yuuri but, one of his hidden delights was surprising people.

The music began to flow through the speakers and he ran his hands down his body, allowing himself to become one with the sensuality the song displayed. He swayed his hips as he skated and pushed his hair back, making his face suddenly look more mature, aided by the fact that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

What Yuuri didn't realise, was as he began to immerse himself into his routine, the rink door had opened, and a tall, slim student slipped inside.

At first, he was in shock that someone else was actually in the rink but, a devilish smile appeared on his pretty face as he quietly found a discrete place in which to hide. Turquoise eyes locked onto Yuuri, who was sensually dancing to the erotic song. The student was immediately infatuated and slid his phone out of his pocket, swiping to the camera. Without really looking at what he was filming, the student followed Yuuri's figure, tall and slim as he glided over the ice with elegance. A warm feeling spread over his body, wanting to call out to him and ask of his name as he did not recognise him. He certainly wasn't Russian and his hair and facial features indicated that he was from somewhere in Asia. He was certainly a good looking boy and that song... that song was definitely helping.

"Who is that..." he breathed to himself, thin fingers swiping his silver hair away from his eyes to get a better view of the siren-like skater.

As the song progressed, Yuuri started to perform his jumps, well executing each of them, despite being away from the ice for a while. As he began to finish his mini performance, he really allowed the eros to take over him, causing him to display a level of sexy that he doubted the rink had ever been graced with. He swung his hip out at the end of the routine, his arms pointing nowhere in particular, his breathing heavy and sweat dripping down the side of his face.

The student in the shadows stopped filming and stealthily slipped back out of the rink, and hid in some tall grass next to the building, thinking back over what he had just witnessed.

Yuuri drifted back to the edge of the rink and gripped the sides. It had felt so good to be back on the ice but he knew that the school would be closing soon and didn't fancy being locked in overnight.

'At least I'd be on time tomorrow,' he laughed to himself as he flopped into a chair and undid the skates. They were more uncomfortable than he initially thought and he could feel blisters forming. Cursing, he returned the skates to the shelf and gathered his things, limping out of the building. He was blissfully unaware of the silver haired boy hiding in the grass, who was looking at him quizzically.

'Why's he walking so slow... oh hang on, he's limping,' he thought to himself, feeling sympathetic toward the skater before a Cheshire Cat smile crept onto his face as he whispered, 'got you'.

 

\-----------

 

Once Yuuri was back in his flat, he was aching. He'd stopped at a shop once he'd gotten off the bus, knowing that he needed to buy food and other necessities in order to start making his home feel like a home. The trip up the stairs had nearly killed him and he only just had enough energy to twist his door key within the lock.

He was now lying on the sofa, shopping bags discarded on the floor next to the fridge.

He thought over his first day, about Phichit, about Miss Baranovskaya, Mr Feltsman... bullies, that stupid kid from the bus, and then skating. He released a contented sigh, glad to know that he'd have his own little sanctuary to escape to, not to mention that he wouldn't have to practise with other people on the ice.

Yuuri decided that his shopping could be sorted out the next day as he willed himself to get up and go to to bed. He set an alarm for 06:50, wanting to make sure he could arrive in good time. Placing his glasses on the night stand, he found himself falling into sleep's embrace quickly.

 

\-----------

 

In a much larger bedroom somewhere in St. Petersburg, the silver haired boy was lounging in bed, his poodle's head resting on his thigh and his free hand gently stroking the dog's fur. For the twenty second time that evening, he pressed play on that video, unable to break his eyes away. The music played over and over in his mind, his lips slightly parted, wanting to be able to whisper a name, but finding nothing.

He was speechless.

Absentmindedly, he walked around his room, drawing curtains and changing clothes without detaching his eyes from the screen even for a second. He switched his light off and felt his way to his bed, pulling back the thick covers and settling into the soft mattress.

'Here, Makkachin' he whsipered softly, the poodle shuffling closer to his master.

With his eyes still glued to the phone, he repeated the video once more before the glare of the unnatural light stung his eyes. He settled down with the dog , laying his arm around the creature for warmth.

'No one else has ever wanted to skate there before...'

'Who even is he? Is he new?'

'I want to see him skate again...'

He couldn't see the slight blush on his face as his breathing began to even out. Drifting into sleep, he slipped into a dream of skating, and dancing, and a dark haired boy...

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Mr Steal Yo Man has arrived ;)
> 
> What do you think? I hope you liked the chapter!


	4. One Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has a confrontation with the school bullies, but a familiar face takes him by surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, I both loved and hated writing this chapter...

 

With a start, Yuuri awoke to the ear wrenching sound of his alarm.

He scrunched his eyes closed again sleepily and yawned. Reaching for his glasses, he got up and headed straight to the shower, needing to cleanse himself after yesterday's skate and his battle with the stairs. The hot water poured over his slim but toned shoulders, relieving some of the tension in his muscles as he sighed with content. He massaged some shower gel into his skin, unfortunately, they only had women's products left so he'd settled with an oh-so-manly lavender scent.

After washing his hair, he stepped out the shower and wrapped a towel around himself and walked out into the main room in search of food. He rustled through the shopping bags on the floor, his hair dripping onto the contents as he found a cereal bar.

'That'll do,' he thought.

He dressed as he ate, opting for a close fitting, black three quarter length shirt and blue jeans (he double checked the zip was up this time).

With the knowledge that he'd be on time for school, Yuuri grabbed his bag, coat, scarf and phone and left the flat. There was a lot of commotion outside but, his hardly extensive Russian vocabulary made him unable to listen in. Not that he wanted to - it sounded like a couple fighting. As he walked, the pain of his blisters returned to him and he cursed.

The chill hit his face as he walked out of the block, so he wrapped his scarf around his neck and made his way round to the bus station, perching on the edge of one of the benches and trying to relieve the discomfort on his heels. Luckily, no one else was around and it was only a few minutes until the low rumble of the bus's engine could be heard approaching. The doors opened and Yuuri saw it was the same driver as yesterday, who raised his eyebrow as the foreign boy stepped onto the freshly cleaned bus. He looked to the side as he handed over his money and then walked to the same seat as the day before. 

Suddenly, he had the urge to look around him, remembering that little punk from yesterday who looked like a scene kid who'd wrenched his wardrobe out of the early 2000's. He honestly didn't know how anyone thought they had the right to act like jerks to people in public places. If he ever saw him again, he'd give him a piece of his mind. 

He nodded to himself, decisively.

This time, he got off the bus at the stop outside Feltsman's, with ten minutes to spare for the bell.

There were students scattered over the courtyard, huddled into groups, chattering. They were all dressed in nice clothes and designer shoes and some of them turned their heads as Yuuri walked through the iron gates. Suddenly very conscious of himself, he made a painful beeline toward the stairs, one thumb hooked under one of this bag straps and the other hand shoved into his pocket. He fixed his eyes to the floor and walked. Through his limited Russian, he could just make out a few phrases.

"Another foreigner?"

"Never seen him before..."

"I give him a day before Mikhailov finds him."

Yuuri's heart began to beat faster as he realised that nearly everyone was talking about him, his anxiety levels rocketing. Thankfully, Phichit appeared before him, as though the Thai boy had a mental connection with him and knew he'd feel awkward arriving at school alone. His friend's cheerful smile comforted him slightly as he was dragged to his tutor room. The hallways of Feltsman's were actually quite wide, occupied by red lockers at intervals along the walls.

Phichit chatted to him about his hamsters as he slowed to a stop outside classroom D11.

"Listen, Yuuri. There are some real idiots in this tutor group so I'd advise you to just keep your head down and just stick with me..." He squeezed his friend's arm before opening the door quietly and leading the new boy in.

Everyone in the classroom stopped what they were doing to watch him - the strange new kid with the strange hamster kid.

Yuuri felt himself be dragged to a half empty table toward the side of the classroom. Two boys sat on the left side of the window, one with blondish hair and the other with a black undercut. The former smiled at Yuuri, making him feel like he may not be rejected first thing, which was reassuring. The other, however, was staring him down, a cocky smile plastered on his face. 

Phichit sat down in an unoccupied chair and gestured for Yuuri to sit beside him and he obeyed, swinging his bag under the table happy to finally be not putting pressure on his injuries.

"This is Chris," Phichit pointed at the calmer boy, who to Yuuri's surprise, winked at him before flashing a smile. If he were a girl, Yuuri may have become lost in his sea green eyes,  but, he was not, so he just blushed slightly and looked away, offering a shy nod.

Before Phichit could introduce the boy sat next to Chris, Yuuri was met with an enthusiastic mini speech.

"Ah! You must be Yuuri, right? Welcome to my tutor, of which I am King - no, I am the King of this whole school! My name is Jean-Jacques Leroy and don't you ever forget it."

Jean-Jacques winked, like Chris did, but with less flair, making Yuuri giggle slightly.

Phichit was face palming.

Chris sighed.

"Ignore JJ, we all try to." Chris said, humour in his deep voice.

Yuuri felt happy. 

He felt properly happy, the comfort of having people to hang out with (however eccentric they may be), soothed his racing mind as he began to relax a bit.

They exchanged phone numbers as the teacher took the register, stumbling over Yuuri's name slightly as she managed "Yori Kadsuke."

Two dozen pairs of eyes focused back on Yuuri once more, but Chris handled the situation for him.

"Um, Miss, it's 'Yuuri Katsuki'", he emphasised Yuuri's name, causing the tutor group to laugh as the teacher apologised, her face turning crimson.

Observing the classroom, Yuuri noticed that the room was used for history. Drawings of soldier's uniforms were hanging on the walls, and tea-stained pages with biro writing on them were stuck together above the entrance to the classroom.

The door burst open.

All conversation in the room immediately dropped. Even the teacher returned to her desk and sat down at her computer, pretending to be typing something, overly enthusiastically. The silence that hung in the air was tense. It was not a curious silence but, one that Yuuri knew would bring trouble.

Through the door strode three boys.

The one in the middle was tall with broad shoulders, his muscles clearly visible through his skin tight shirt, the veins in his arms indicating steroid usage. He had dark red hair, clearly dyed, that contrasted with his dusty blonde eyebrows, below which sat a pair of deep brown eyes that were scanning the classroom. 

The boy to his right was slightly smaller than him, in height and build. Brown locks of hair fell to his shoulders and his irises were a shade of green darker than Chris's. He stood there with his arms crossed, flanking the boy in the middle like a dog.

To Yuuri's shock, the boy on the left was small and thin, his black skinny jeans showing his late development but growing muscles. His hair was a perfect blonde, framing his face like it were a canvas and ice blue eyes met Yuuri's. His lips slightly parted at first, before he bit his lower one, clenching his fists to his sides subtly. 

The boy from the bus.

"Oh shit... It's Mikhailov." Phichit whispered under his breath.

The boy in the middle, presumably Mikhailov, heard Phichit's comment, and looked over, seeing Yuuri instantly.

Yuuri swallowed as he approached, his boots heavy as his wide strides closed the gap between them quickly.

"Oi, you, what's your name?"

It wasn't a question.

"Y-Yuuri" he choked out, looking up through his glasses at the beast in front of him. He was double his size and didn't fancy his chances in any form of conflict with him.

Mikhailov let out a harsh, fake laugh.

"I can't hear you kid, speak up"

The brown haired boy sniggered.

Yuuri cleared his throat and spoke louder this time, griping the side of his leg, his fingernails digging into his skin through his jeans.

"Yuuri Katsuki." His voice wavered. He inwardly cursed.

Mikhailov mocked surprise and the boy to his right snorted.

"Seriously? Oh boy, this is gonna be so good..."

He cracked his knuckles.

Chris, JJ and Phichit just sat and watched, knowing what would happen to them if they stepped between Mikhailov and his new target. 

Yuuri sank into his seat further, praying he could just disappear and magically return to Japan. But alas, the gods had abandoned him.

"What'cha gonna do, Alexei?" The obedient dog crept to his side, his nasty grin revealing he had a missing tooth.

"I think we should let our little kitten deal with this, don't you think, Ivan?"

The class was still silent and Yuuri suspected this was not a rare occurrence.

Although, one boy seemed to be glaring particularly angrily at Mikhailov, a mix of hatred and fear in his grey eyes. He seemed to slip to the edge of his seat at the mention of a "kitten".

Alexei continued.

"You see, Yuuri, our friend here is called Yuri too. Yuri Plistetsky."

Yuuri's eyes widened as the blonde boy was summoned forward. He resisted at first before Mikhailov shot him a dark look.

"Aw, Yurochka? Do we need to have another talk... about where your loyalties lie?" His tone was pitch black and the anger that shook over Yuri seemed to change his mindset.

"Of course fucking not."

Mikhailov smirked as Yuri approached Yuuri, silently.

Ivan slipped between the desks toward a certain group of students.

"I'd suggest you listen to me before I have to smash your glasses into your face," he snarled, slamming one fist into the table and getting in Yuuri's face.

However, the look in the boys eyes did not comply with his threat. There was no anger. 

There was fear.

Yuuri picked up on this instantly.

"You don't have to do this," he whispered, so only the blonde would hear.

He'd hoped that his voice sounded confident but the chances of that were slim to nothing.

Yuri' eyes widened momentarily, before what almost seemed like panic flashed over his eyes. With slight hesitation, he backed away from Yuuri.

"Why'd you make him do this? He's so young." 

Yuuri said suddenly, the assertive words foreign on his tongue.

"What the hell did you just say?" Mikhailov growled and gripped Yuuri by the front of his shirt, pulling him to his feet. His heart felt like it was going to rip through his chest with fear. Sure, he'd been picked on back in Japan but never by guys as big as Alexei Mikhailov.

"What I'm implying, is that you're a son of a -"

He was thrown to the ground instantly and from the corner of his eye, Yuuri saw Phichit rise from his seat, ready to fling himself at Yuuri's attacker if need be.

Alexei bent his knee to deliver a harsh kick before Yuri dived in front of him, his arms out stretched like a baby eagle.

The rage that came across Mikhailov's face was enough to make Yuuri's stomach drop further into the floor.

"Just leave it Alexei for now, yeah" Yuri tried to convince him, only a slight sense of pleading in his voice as he tried to maintain an alpha like stance.

Alexei straightened up, ignoring Yuuri completely, who was still lying on the floor, his shoulder distributing an ache all over his right arm from his fall.

"Ivan, grab him." 

The simple sentence made Yuuri flinch, expecting to find himself overpowered by the other boy, or for Yuri to be attacked. 

Instead, he heard commotion from the other side of the classroom as another boy was hauled up from his chair by the hair.

A scream ripped through Yuri's throat as he tried to lurch forward, gripped painfully on the arm by Alexei and restrained.

Yuuri sat up, and saw that the boy being hauled out the classroom was of average height, his neatly slicked back, black undercut being almost ripped out by Ivan's iron grip.

"Otabek!" Yuri cried, struggling against the monster holding onto him.

"Otabek, no! Leave him alone!"

Otabek, did not struggle, he simply smiled weakly at Yuri as he was pulled through the door roughly.

"I'll be fine Yurochka, don't worry about me," he whispered to Yuri and Yuri alone.

Yuuri saw the boy crash to the floor and the door slam shut, kicked closed by Ivan.

Yuri finally broke free and sprinted to the door, colliding with it in desperation, banging on it with his small fists as one tear slid down his pale face and dripped to the floor.

"Beka! No! Beka, please, don't hurt him... Beka!" Yuri cried, grasping at the door handle but finding it not giving way. His sobs were the only thing heard within the classroom, wrenching at Yuur's heart.

That was because Otabek was slumped against it, taking punch after punch and kick after kick from Ivan, who's signet ring on his left hand left ugly prints along Otabek's jaw.

'Yuri... please stop crying,' he pleaded to himself as he felt Ivan'f fist collide with his nose, breaking it with a loud crunch.

Back inside the classroom, Yuri was still whispering Otabek's name into the door and Alexei just stood and laughed.

"This, little kitten, is why you always listen to me, okay?"

Yuri said nothing as he was dragged to his feet. Alexei easily kicked through the door and the smaller boy flew through it at once, flinging himself around Otabek's injured form, running his fingers through the other boys hair and sobbing into his neck.

The door was then shut abruptly once more and there was silence in the hallway.

Yuuri picked himself up off the floor and clutched his shoulder, his eyes wide at what he'd just witnessed.

The bell rang.

The class stood up and left, with not as much as a whisper.

"Let's go, Yuuri." Phichit said lowly, as Chris held onto his uninjured arm and guided him out the classroom.

He remained in a daze for the rest of the school day. He didn't see Mikhailov, Ivan, Yuri or Otabek anywhere, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to see Yuri again after hearing the animalistic screams that had erupted from him as Otabek was hauled to his feet. Even JJ had tried to cheer him up, offering to show Yuuri what "JJ Style" was, but he politely declined before excusing himself. He wandered the corridors on his own for the whole lunch break, trying to ignore his limp, mindlessly staring into classrooms and somehow ignoring the stares he got from other students. He even saw Mr Feltsman, and flashed him a fake smile, before stitching his eyebrows together and wondering if the headmaster actually knew what was going on in his own school.

After school, he decided to go skating, despite the pain he was in.

\---------

The silver haired boy was just removing his jacket in the locker room when he heard someone else enter the building.

His breath hitched as he had a suspicion as to whom it may be. He'd been watching that damned video all day and the image of the foreign boy was quite literally dancing around his head, though he didn't mind it one bit. However, he hadn't realised that his chance to meet his biggest distraction in the flesh would come so soon.

Yuuri entered the locker room.

He stopped in the doorway and nearly dropped his bag in surprise, having not expected a random boy to be in there, in the process of taking off his clothes. He felt his face flush as he stared at the boy, who was sharing his gaze, with magnificent, blue eyes, similar to Yuri's, only the punk's didn't have a ring of turquoise around the outer edge. His nose was slim and his mouth was small, although his lips were full and glossy with balm. His skin was perfectly clear and his jawline sharp, his neck leading to a muscular, but not overbearing chest and slender body. He was tall, and pretty. Very pretty. His hair was silver. Actually silver.

'Is he an angel?' Yuuri thought, before scolding himself for sounding childish. He was straight after all... wasn't he?

"Uhh, hi?" Yuuri said nervously, as the silver haired boy approached him.

"Hello..." His voice was like silk.

"Um, I'm new here... I didn't think anyone used this rink, given the state it's in..." Yuuri felt embarrassment taking over him as he turned his eyes to the floor.

"Ha ha, don't worry! I'm the only other person who comes here so it looks like I'm your new rink mate," he smiled, flashing perfect, pearly white teeth. 

He was animated and lively - something that Yuuri knew he wasn't, so he smiled weakly and nodded, averting his eyes from the pair in front of him.

"There's no need to be shy, I won't bite!" He joked, nudging Yuuri in his uninjured shoulder.

"What's your name?" He asked, finally to get the answer to his burning question as he readily awaited the dark haired boy's reply.

"I'm Yuuri Katsuki, it's a pleasure to meet you," Yuuri bowed, wanting to show the boy some gratitude for not trying to punch him in the face upon first meeting, unlike others in the school.

The other boy's heart swelled at the gesture and clapped his hands together in delight.

"Yuuri! What a nice name," he smiled, as his new rink mate straightened up.

"Thanks, I guess... Um, what's your name?" He ventured, still slightly taken aback by the silver hair and almost fantastical eyes, that he found himself staring into, now unable to look away.

"I," the boy said, pointing his slender fingers toward his body, elegantly, "am Viktor Nikiforov, and it's a pleasure to meet you too, Yuuri!"

His smile was so pleasant that Yuuri felt the red on his face intensify.

"Do you skate?" Viktor inquired, tilting his head to the side and raising a questioning finger to his lips.

Yuuri piped up immediately, suddenly realising that the only reason why Viktor would there, would be to skate.

"Yes! Ever since I was little..." Yuuri trailed off, thinking of the memories fondly, before being brought back to reality by Viktor's next words.

"Well then, Yuuri, shall we skate?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I evil? I think I'm evil
> 
> I hope you liked it!! :)
> 
> Sorry if there are any mistakes, I was proof reading at midnight :')


	5. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri skate together and Viktor ends up making bold promises. But can he keep them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution: cute moments ahead :)

 

Viktor held out his hand to Yuuri and bowed slightly, his hair falling across his eyes as a small smile played across his lips. The oddly romantic gesture took Yuuri by surprise, as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish, eyes blinking rapidly. 

"I, uh... um... sure," he stammered out, backing against the door frame, the wood digging into his back. He was pretty sure that the heat radiating off his face was enough to make Viktor believe he had a fever.

The Russian laughed in response to Yuuri's bewildered reaction, and held his fingertips to his head as he chuckled.

"I'm sorry, Yuuri, I just couldn't resist," he smiled, holding his gaze onto the other boy's.

Once again, he didn't know how to respond, and so he just nodded before turning on his heel, heading out the door to get skates.

Viktor tapped his back, his touch feather light, causing Yuuri to flinch slightly.

"Yuuri... you're seriously going to skate with a massive coat on?" 

His accent was thick and his words almost sounded... disappointed? The sparkle in the Russian's eyes was venturing into puppy-dog levels of pleading, and Yuuri honestly wasn't sure why.

Viktor was borderline mortified. Like hell was he going to let the boy get on this ice without looking his best - not after he knew what he could do.

"Take it off, it'll be easier to move, won't it?" He teased, raising one eyebrow.

"I was going to take it off anyway," Yuuri said.

"What, on the ice? That's hardly convenient."

"... baka." the Japanese boy muttered, slipping out of Viktor's proximity toward the lockers.

"I'm sorry?" The reply was a confused one.

"Nothing." Yuuri smiled to himself, before dropping his bag onto the floor and unzipping his coat.

Viktor propped himself up against the door frame as he watched him drop the coat off his shoulders. His cheeks flushed slightly as Yuuri bent down to untie his shoes, something about the action interested him, and he subconsciously walked toward him.

Yuuri looked up.

"Uhm, Viktor-" he was cut off as Viktor's long fingers approached his face and slowly slid off Yuuri's glasses, crouching down to his height to look him properly in the face. He placed the blue frames on the soft material of his coat, so they wouldn't be damaged, without breaking eye contact with Yuuri, as he examined his face. Pink was flushing his cheeks and there was a shine to his hazel eyes.

"Don't want your glasses to get damaged, do we?" Viktor said smoothly, before standing up and leaving the room, gesturing for Yuuri to follow. He tugged his shoes off, ignoring the laces. He was reminded of his blisters, the friction causing him to wince as he too, stood up and followed Viktor, whispering "...yeah," quietly, in response to the other boys question.

He didn't really know why, but he felt drawn to Nikiforov, who he'd known for about ten minutes. He'd been the only person to strike up conversation with him willingly since his arrival in Russia. Phichit was a good friend, and JJ and Chris were nice people, but he was sure that they would have kept their distance from him if Feltsman hadn't decided to appoint Phichit as his tour guide. But Viktor was... Viktor was interesting... he was pretty.

He was... pretty interesting.

Yuuri found Viktor finding some skates, so he too grabbed a pair, walking over to a bench next to the rink and putting them on. Viktor appeared by his side, his skates already laced into neat bows. He opened the rink door and stepped onto the ice, and Yuuri heard a happy sigh spill from him and his face lit up, excited to see someone else with the same vigour as he had toward skating.

Viktor pushed his leg out, moving himself quietly across the ice as he started doing laps, rotating every now and again. Yuuri eventually realised that he was staring, and so quickly finished doing his laces before joining him. 

The Russian was graceful, and Yuuri appreciated that. He could tell that he had a raw talent and passion for skating and he subconsciously slipped into some step sequences. Silver hair blew around Viktor's face, a concentrated look on his face as he too, started to perform parts of various routines. There was no music, just silence, as the pair skated around each other, stealing glances every now and again.

The silence was nice, unlike the garish volume of the days earlier events. Images of Yuri returned to his head, and his heart began to feel heavy, until he saw Viktor, in all his elegance, swing his leg back, push up on the ice and spin in the air, landing with barely a sound.

Yuuri skidded to a halt.

"Was that - Was that a quadruple flip?!" He exclaimed, slightly breathless from his aimless skating, so he balanced his hands on his knees as his legs bent slightly.

Viktor smiled a heart-shaped smile, gliding toward Yuuri.

"Yes. It was. Cool, huh?" 

"So! Cool! Ah!" Yuuri burst out, and clapped his hands together.

Viktor's angelic laughter interrupted his excitement, as he felt a hand placed on the top of his head, ruffling his dark hair.

"Aw, Yuuri, you're too cute..." 

Realising what he'd said, a small blush came across the Russian's face, having not expected those words to come flying out of his mouth.

Yuuri froze momentarily, the feeling of his hair being touched was odd but he actually didn't mind it, for some reason...

'What's wrong with me today?' He thought to himself before saying,

"I-It's just that for so many years I had no friends who skated. It was just me. Sure there were people who went to the rink I used to skate at but, I didn't know them... I used to get picked on at school a lot for loving it so much... I mean, yeah it meant that I spent years hiding from bullies every break time but, at least I had somewhere to let off steam and y'know, be myself. But now... but now I have someone who I can share my dream with, to become a successful skater!"

Yuuri's hands were clenched as he spoke, his voice filled with emotion and his eyes glassy. Never before had he been able to share the ice with someone so passionate, so talented, like Viktor. The words slipped out of his mouth as he revealed enthusiasm that he felt so rarely. Everything he said echoed around the rink, bouncing off the walls and signifying his new found connection with the other skater.

Viktor's heart swelled as he felt the power of the other boys confession and without thinking, he threw his arms around Yuuri, gripping him tightly.

Yuuri was shocked. 

'Wh-what's he doing?' He panicked.

His heart beat fast as he slowly melted into Viktor. He was warm and... soft... but also slightly sweaty from skating, though he smelt more musky than anything else.

However, his embrace brought pain into his injured shoulder, though he tried to refrain from tensing. 

He felt strangely safe in Viktor's arms and he could feel a strong blush seeping through his face and neck.

Viktor buried his nose into Yuuri's neck, trying to communicate how deeply he'd understood his message, without breaking the silence.

After a few moments, Viktor felt the muscles of the other boy's arms tense, and he pulled away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you..." he stepped backward, worried he'd upset Yuuri, as he saw him clutch his shoulder.

"No, no! It's not that... it's just that my shoulder hurts a bit and... y'know," Yuuri cast his eyes away from Viktor but, felt the Russian step back to his side, touching his shoulder, gently.

"What happened?" He whispered, stroking Yuuri's arm subconsciously, in an attempt of comfort.

Yuuri wan't quite sure how to answer without simply looking like a weak child, which deep down, he felt he was.

"Oh, I um... Mikhailov introduced himself to me earlier." He bit his lip, daring to look up into Viktor's eyes, whose gentle look hardened.

"Alexei did this? Why? .... Come on, let's get off the ice."

Without waiting for an answer, Viktor grabbed the injured boy's good arm, leading him slowly off the ice and into the locker room. He had one arm around Yuuri's waist and the other by his side, holding onto walls for support and the Japanese boy couldn't help but blush once more from the proximity. 

Once they were sat on a bench, Yuuri told Viktor about his run in with Mikhailov, Ivan and Yuri, and how Yuri had protected him, resulting in Ivan beating up Otabek.

The Russian sat and listened in horror.

He was angry.

Viktor rubbed his face with his hands and clenched them together in his lap. He and Alexei had history, and it looked like he was now dragging an innocent boy into his nonsensical, egoistical, power hungry, maniacal antics.

"Viktor-" Yuuri began, concerned by the dark look that flashed across the Russian's eyes.

"Don't worry about Alexei, I won't let him hurt you." Viktor said decisively. He turned his head to to Yuuri and rested a hand on his good shoulder.

"He's a spoilt brat with too much free time. He's not all he appears to be and trust me, and I won't let him touch someone with such pure love toward skating as you, Yuuri. I promise."

His voice was rich with sincerity and Yuuri felt the impulse to hug him. 

He flung his good arm around the Russian's chest and planted his face below his chin.

He was happy, comforted, peaceful, all at once.

Despite having only met him half an hour before, he felt like he'd known the skater his entire life.

At first, Viktor was surprised but then, a soft smile broke across his face. 

'Yuuri's never been accepted by anyone so fast in his life,' he thought to himself, thinking back to their earlier conversation, 'let alone has he been able to share his love for skating with another enthusiast.' He wrapped one arm around Yuuri's back and placed another one on his head, the dark hair soft to the touch. He grazed the top of Yuuri's head with his and breathed in, picking up a floral scent...

"Yuuri, you smell of lavender... I like it," he whispered.

The other boy's face turned an alarming shade of crimson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sense a ship sailing soon... ;)
> 
> Okay, so, I've decided that I'm going to have to stop updating this so regularly. My GCSE exams start next week and I've done literally no revision, so I need to prioritise a bit... I'll update once a week, maybe twice if I think I have the time - I hope you can understand!


	6. Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri learns about Yuri and Viktor's past and things get steamy when Viktor visits Yuuri's flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! 
> 
> Is it me or is it hot in here?
> 
> Don't like boy x boy relationships? Then don't read it, simple :)
> 
> There's probably a load of mistakes atm, but I'm too tired to spellcheck right now (I'll do it tomorrow)

Viktor and Yuuri had sat, entwined in each other's arms for a while, basking in the calmness of the locker room. The moments passed, heart beat to heart beat, until the shrill ring of Viktor's phone caused him to detach himself from the other boy with a start. A muffled conversation in Russian was held as Viktor collected his stuff, hurriedly, throwing his glance back to Yuuri, who was sat fidgeting on the bench, every few seconds with an apologetic look in his eyes.

Yuuri could make out the odd word or phrase like "I heard," and "just coming," and "sorry".

'I wonder who that is...' Yuuri thought, idly. He missed how warm Viktor was, though felt as though he'd forced himself on to him somewhat, thinking back to how desperately he'd thrown himself at the other boy.

"That was... That was Yuri." 

Viktor was stood in the doorway of the locker room, a leather messenger bag swung over one shoulder, a dark green trench coat around his shoulders and a scarf wrapped around his neck.

His words sounded unsure, as though he was scared that saying Yuri's name would cause the ice on the rink to crack and the windows to shatter.

Yuuri stood up, his heart beating harder.

"Yuri? Is he alright? Did Mikhailov beat him up?" 

"No... He told me that Otabek needs to go to the hospital-"

"The hospital!? Don't tell me that, oh no, it's all my fault, I should never have moved here-"

"Yuuri!" Viktor almost growled, demanding the other boy's attention.

Yuuri shut his mouth instantly.

"Otabek's nose is broken, that's all. He's finally agreed to go and have it checked and Yuri can't drive. He wants me to take them there."

"Oh... I see." Yuuri trailed off, sad that Viktor was leaving him for other people so soon.

'No, don't be selfish,' he scolded himself.

"You could come with us... if you like." It was Viktor's turn to look away, and a rosy tint spread across his perfect nose.

"Ah, yeah, sure." Yuuri tried to keep his cool, but he couldn't stop himself from grinning as Viktor nodded and turned around, indicating for him to follow.

They walked in silence to the school car park, which was situated to the east of the campus. As the passed through the maze of sports cars and convertibles, Yuuri began to realise just how rich some of the kids that attended Feltsman's were.

An annoyed shout interrupted his in depth analysis of a BMW.

"Oi, Viktor! What's he doing here?" Yuri kicked a lose piece of gravel aggressively and Yuuri stopped in his tracks. He remembered how the kid had been on the bus, and suddenly felt the desire to sprint to the bus stop, get home and lock himself in his flat for 72 hours.

Yuri scowled at Yuuri, having to lift his head to reach the taller boy's eyes.

"What makes you think you're welcome here, huh? After getting my Beka fucked up because you didn't wanna get hit?"

Yuuri then saw Otabek, leaning against an SUV, staring at the back of Yuri's head. Just before he went to apologise to the smaller boy and then proceed to run away, he felt Viktor's hand settle on his shoulder.

"Yuri," Viktor said, his eyebrows drawing together sternly, "that's not how we greet new people, play nice."

Yuri ignored his warning and stepped closer to the Japanese boy, reaching out for the front of his jacket. But then, Otabek appeared behind him, and grabbed his wrists, holding him back.

"Yura... calm down." Otabek's voice was deep and calming, but the blonde was determined to get his message across to Yuuri.

"Beka, I can't calm down when this bitch got you hurt!" He cried, turning back to Yuuri, who's eyes were wide and was slowly melting back into Viktor.

"It's your fault that Alexei hit him - yours! You get that? I'm gonna -"

"Yuri." Viktor's silky voice interrupted him. His thick accent and tightening grip intimidated Yuuri slightly.

'Wow... I barely know this guy,' he breathed, waiting for Viktor to continue, but he the Russian said no more.

Yuri looked at the grip Viktor had on Yuuri's shoulder, then to his face, and then to Yuuri. Even he couldn't mistake the deadly warning in Viktor's voice. The look in the boy's eyes was icy and read "back off."

"Tch." Yuri muttered, wrenching his wrist out of Otabek's grip, only to move his hand of the small of his back and gently guiding him to the car. 

"You need to go to the hospital, Beka," he said in a quiet voice.

Viktor removed his grip from Yuuri's shoulder, before opening the front passenger door and gesturing for Yuuri to get in, which he did. As he fastened the seat belt, Yuri and Otabek got into the backseat, Yuri in the middle, not straying from the injured boy's side.

The car was silent and as Viktor started the engine and pulled neatly out of the parking space, he switched on the radio. The first station to switch on was playing classical music, and Yuuri could hear the blonde punk in the back roll his eyes and swear under his breath, however, he did not object.

Yuuri took to watching the movement of Viktor's hands as he watched his grip on the steering wheel and on the gear stick. His glance ventured to his face, a small smile playing on his lips as he saw that Viktor was frowning slightly in concentration, muttering to himself every now and again in Russian. 

After a few minutes of staring, he looked in the rear view mirror and nearly gasped.

Otabek had his hands wrapped around Yuri. One around the back of his waist and the other around the back of his head, his fingers playing with the blonde hair. Likewise, Yuri had one hand around the back of Otabek's head, running over the fuzzy hair of his under cut, the other running up and down the top of Otabek's leg. Their lips were interlocked and Yuuri suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was alone in a car with a hot Russian ice skater and two boys passionately making out on the back seat. However, he found himself not able to look away as the watched Otabek slip his tongue into Yuri's mouth, who instantly let him, running his hand further up Otabek's leg and under his shirt. This continued for a few minutes before Yuri let out a soft mewl. 

Yuuri actually choked on his own saliva.

Otabek's hand was running dangerously over Yuri's crotch, becoming more and more enthusiastic. As another soft moan escaped Yuri's mouth, Viktor came skidding to a halt at a set of lights. He snapped his head around, his silver hair sticking to his forehead slightly... was he sweating? 

"Do you know how damn hard it is to drive when you're trying to get into each other's pants in the backseat?" He said huskily.

Yuri detached himself from Otabek and Otabek retracted his hand, shuffling further to the window. Their hair was messy and red flushed their faces as they listened to Viktor sheepishly.

"Like honestly, I find it hard enough to drive normally, let alone with you two moaning in the back like a pair of virgin schoolgirls. I really don't want to imagine what you get up to at home because I'm pretty sure you're too young for it - both of you!"

A devilish grin crept onto Yuri's flushed face.

"We're of consenting age, thanks, and... Well, usually, Otabek likes too-" he began.

"-Oh my God I said I DIDN'T want to know! Just be quiet! Besides, should you even be kissing while Otabek has a broken nose?" Viktor rolled his eyes before turning back around, the lights having turned green.

Yuri turned back to Otabek and held his face in his hand, remembering all of a sudden why they were going to the hospital, and feeling guilty for forgetting.

Otabeks soft smile assured the smaller boy that his boyfriend was fine, and he smiled back.

"So? What do you have to say for yourselves?" Viktor demanded, almost hysterically.

"Sorry Viktor," both boys said in unison, before Yuri looked down.

"Tch, Beka, look what you did," he smirked.

Yuuri looked back into the rear view mirror and at Yuri's trousers.

He choked, again.

\-------------

They arrived at the hospital without any further speeches from Viktor. Yuuri had spent the journey with a red face and eyes fixed on the road. The driver had asked him if he was alright, and he'd managed to force out a shaky affirmative. The intimacy of Yuri and Otabek had clearly taken the foreign boy aback and Viktor couldn't help but laugh.

The injured boy and his inseparable partner got out the car, Yuri slamming the door shut and proceeding to take Otabek's hand as he lead his boyfriend to the hospital.

There was silence in the car, bar the steady breathing of the two skaters. 

"For a man who smells like lavender, I'd wager you're a virgin," Viktor broke the silence, Yuuri's face filling with red and his jaw dropping.

"H-How did you-I mean-No! That's not even true!But-" 

'Oh sweet Jesus he knows I'm a virgin.'

Yuuri felt like he was ready for the ground to open and for Satan to drag him into Hell where he'd be forever tormented by the fact that Viktor Nikiforov knew that Yuuri Katsuki was in fact, a virgin.

Viktor stopped for a moment before unfastening his seat belt and turning to face Yuuri. His turquoise eyes, darker than normal, scanned the other boy's face, his pupils blown his mouth sightly parted.

"Really...?" He said, tilting his to one side and raising a pointed eyebrow.

"I uh... I didn't really... uh," Yuuri decided that Hell would be rather welcoming and so confessed, quickly and somewhat painlessly, "okay, yes. I'm a virgin. Problem?"

Yuuri finished ruefully before folding his arms and staring at nothing in particular out the window. Suddenly, Viktor's voice echoed through his ears and his breath ghosted over his neck as he said:

"Well then, I guess you'll be the moaning virgin schoolgirl soon."

"What!? What's that supposed to mean!?"

Yuuri was well and truly shook as he turned to look at Viktor, only to find the Russian's face very, very close to his own. He swallowed audibly, as he stared into Viktor's eyes.

Then the other skater pulled away, laughing.

"Ah, Yuuri, you're too funny to tease." He said with a playful wink, though Yuuri wasn't sure that quite made up for what he had just said to him. Not wanting an awkward silence to develop, he decided to change the subject.

"So, how do you know Yuri," he asked. Yuuri had wanted to know since being in the locker room but hadn't really found the right window of opportunity in which to ask.

Viktor sighed.

"I, uh, well, we skated together at the rink at school."

"Yuri skates?"

"He used to."

"What do you mean? Did he give up? Why would he want to give up skating... He's got the perfect build for it."

"A few years ago, Alexei and Ivan arrived. They'd been expelled from their private school and Yakov was the only headmaster in St. Petersburg willing to take them on. When they arrived, it was clear that they had no intentions of reforming, and picked up their old habits."

Yuuri listened closely too what Viktor was saying. The Russian seemed sad, as though telling the story hurt him.

"Why didn't Yakov shut them down when they continued behaving like that?" Yuuri asked.

"Because... Because I told him that I could sort them out. And he believed me, I suppose."

"How were you going to do that?"

"I didn't really know... I just went up to them one day and struck up conversation with them. Everyone at the time looked at me like I was a rabbit going straight up to a fox - like an idiot, basically, and I guess I was. I told Mikhailov who I was and if he wanted to hang out sometime, and he agreed."

"I see... what happened then?" Yuuri breathed.

"I took him to the rink. Bad idea, really. Yuri and I were already friends - his dad had paid for the rink to be built on the school grounds and so we practised there when we could. When Mikhailov found out we skated, his attitude... changed. I mean, you've seen him, he's got more muscle than brain so I guess he just didn't understand why we loved 'playing around on frozen water', as he put it. One day, Yuri announced that he and Otabek were together and Ivan overheard. Naturally, he ran off to tell Alexei who then... who then..."

Viktor's voice cracked toward the end, and Yuuri placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said, feeling guilty for making him upset.

"No... it's okay. Basically... Alexei went and found Otabek, and... and... he asked him if I was gay. I don't know why, but he did. Otabek didn't really know Alexei but was under the impression that we were friends, and so told him I was."

"You're gay?"

"Ha ha, yeah, I am. Alexei found it hilarious and the next day, I was skating alone. When I went to go and get my stuff, he was in the locker room, waiting for me."

Yuuri felt his heart miss a beat, feeling like he knew what Viktor was going to say.

"When I entered the room, he started shouting at me, calling me a fag and saying how gay people aren't welcome in any place he had to be on a daily basis. He got out a knife after I started arguing back... he cut my hair."

Yuuri's train of thought stopped. His hair?

"Why'd he cut your hair? I don't understand..."

"Back then, I had really long hair, down to my waist. I looked like a girl but I loved it, and my mum used to braid it for me... you think I'm stupid, don't you?"

Viktor rubbed his face with his hands, staring blankly out the window.

"No, I don't think you're stupid, Viktor..." Yuuri urged.

"Well... when he went to cut it, he basically just grabbed me by the hair and shoved me against the wall, whispering all the horrible things he'd do to me if I ever told anyone what had happened... I just cried and cried and begged him not to but he just told me to 'be a big boy and deal with it'. When he was done, he shoved the rest of my hair into his coat pocket and left. Yuri came in not long after, finding me on the floor of the locker room. He instantly guessed what had happened and went after Mikhailov. From then, Yuri became Alexei's puppet and used Otabek as a guarantee of Yuri's loyalty..."

As Viktor finsihed, a single tear slipped from Yuuri's eye.

"I-I didn't know... it makes sense now... why Yuri is so protective of Otabek and why he acted like such a jerk. I can't believe he did that to you, it's horrible!" Yuuri unplugged his seat belt and flung himself around Viktor, beginning to sob.

"Hey," he half laughed, "it wasn't your fault. Besides, I'm over it now."

He stroked Yuuri's hair in reassurance but then had to prop him back up as he saw Yuri and Otabek returning. He held the other boy's face in his hand and wiped the tears away with his thumb, finding Yuuri's crying sobs and catching breath a bit too cute.

Yuuri too realised that the others were almost at the car and so finished drying his face with his sleeve before sitting back in his seat.

Otabek and Yuri got back into the car, Otabek's nose now clear of blood, but without any sign of treatment.

Yuri caught Yuuri looking and told him that it turned out that his nose was just bruised, not broken.

Viktor smiled in relief before pulling out of the parking space. Yuri decided that he wanted to go to Otabek's and so Viktor dropped them off at a nearby park, presumably close to where Otabek lived. Yuri muttered his thanks and his boyfriend smiled appreciatively before exiting the car once more and accompanying Yuri on the pathway.

Viktor and Yuuri were once again alone.

"Want me to drop you off?" Viktor asked.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great." Yuuri fumbled through his pockets until he found the piece of paper with his address on it. The driver scanned it quickly before indicating out of the space by the park and joining the main flow of traffic. They chatted every so often about what they saw on their journey and school and life in genera. Yuuri told Viktor about his hometown and his life in Japan, and the Russian listened intently.

When they arrived at Yuuri's block of flats, Viktor wound down the window and craned his neck to see the top of the expanse of grey.

"You live here?" He asked, almost confused, as he got out the car. Yuuri scrambled after Viktor and heard the car lock after him. The other boy was already at the front door, staring blankly at the keypad. Yuuri reached in front of him and tapped in the code. Viktor almost seemed too keen to see inside the space where Yuuri lived and the Japanese boy wasn't sure if he was ready for anyone to see the state of his flat.

"You sure you want to come up? My flat's a tip and there's like 70 flights of stairs to climb up," Yuuri hoped to discourage Viktor, however, his words seemed to have the opposite effect as the other boy headed toward the stairs.

"That's fine by me." He said, simply.

Yuuri knew in the back of his mind that Viktor must be rich, and so felt embarrassed about making him climb up all those damned stairs. The silver haired boy's eyes widened as he heard the arguing, crying and general commotion coming from the flats around Yuuri's.

"He we are..." the resident trailed off as he located his key in his coat pocket and slid it into the lock. The creak that followed was a foreign noise to Viktor, and he almost felt like he was going on a haunted house tour.

Yuuri switched on the light and stared at the mess. Shopping bags were still strewn on the floor, clothes were scattered over the sofa and the faded blue carpet and cracking walls didn't really help the effect. He walked through the hallway and gestured for Viktor to make himself feel at home. Viktor slid off his coat and unwrapped his scarf, before folding them neatly and placing them on one of the kitchen counters.

"It's very... minimalist," he said, noting the lack of a TV, plants or any decorations.

"Yeah, well, it's home to me now..." Yuuri replied, dumping his coat on the floor.

"I like it." Viktor decided with a nod, flashing the other boy a smile.

He blushed as the Russian flopped down next to him on the sofa.

"Want a drink?"

"Got any alcohol?"

"Sadly, no, I can't really afford it."

Viktor's eyes filled with rich-boy sympathy and stated that water would be fine. Yuuri headed to the kitchen area, sensing the other boy's stare on his back. Suddenly, a few seconds of a familiar song filled the room.

"What was that?" Yuuri turned around, to see Viktor rapidly turning the volume on his phone down, a fierce blush forming across his face. 

"It-It's nothing, ha ha" Viktor insisted but, Yuuri was curious. He returned with two glasses of water and placed them on the coffee table.

"No, show me, I want to listen." Yuuri scooted closer to the other skater on the sofa, cornering Viktor against the arm.

'Shit, he's gonna find out I'm a complete werido.'

"No, it's nothing, really!" Viktor forced but, with a laugh, Yuuri snatched the phone from his grasp and increased the volume.

His laugh stopped and his face fell, eyes widening, as the music of 'Eros' filled the room.

'This is me... this is me... how did he? When did he...'

"H-how did you get this?" Yuuri stuttered, looking at Viktor, who grimaced.

"Look, I saw you skating it the other day. I came to practise and there you were, skating to that song. Not gonna lie, I just thought you looked really hot and I just needed to film it so I could watch it again... Please don't hate me, Yuuri."

Yuuri was far from offended. 

"That's fine! I just wasn't expecting you to have this, that's all." He laughed, hoping Viktor would relax, but there was a serious look on the other boy's face.

"What's wrong-"

"You really don't know how you looked while you were skating, do you?"

"Sorry?-"

"I was going crazy back there, watching you skate like that... if I had been straight I would've turned gay right there and then, Yuuri~"

Viktor's tone had changed, and he was leaning closer to Yuuri.

"V-Viktor-" 

"Do you know how many times I watched that damn video wanting to one day see it again - wanting to see you?"

Yuuri's face was bright red as he felt his back meet the sofa. He felt warm and his heart was beating hard.

"I don't get it, Viktor..."

"Yuuri~" Viktor placed his hands on either side of Yuuri's head, nuzzling his face into Yuuri's neck and breathing in the sweet lavender smell. Without thinking, he moved his face over Yuuri's, marvelling at the hazel eyes, the parted lips, the flushed face and dilated pupils.

"Viktor-"

"Call me Vitya, Yuuri~" He breathed against Yuuri's ear, sending shivers down the other boy's spine.

' I don't know what he's doing but... I don't want him to stop,' His breathing was heavy and he gasped as Viktor started to press his lips on his neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses.

"Vik-Vitya," he corrected himself, feeling cool hands pushing his shirt upward.

"Are you wondering why I'm doing this?" Viktor paused, looking down into Yuuri's eyes. 

Yuuri nodded.

Viktor decided that words would be irrelevant, and so instead, leaned in closer, feeling the other boy's heart through his shirt.

He pressed his lips to Yuuri's slowly, melting into the softness of the the other boy. Yuuri moaned in surprise underneath him and Viktor shifted his hand to tangle in the dark hair before feeling Yuuri kiss back. After a few moments of gentle kisses, Yuuri felt Viktor's tongue slide along his lips, asking for entrance, and so he opened his mouth. He wasn't an experienced kisser and so let the Russian take the lead, who didn't seem to mind as he hummed in satisfaction. 

Yuuri's mouth was sweet and Viktor took his time to explore it, whilst moving his hand back up the other boy's shirt, feeling the lean muscles and soft skin of a skater's body. Yuuri too slipped his tongue into the other's mouth, earning a pleased purr from Viktor, and became more daring. He had no idea why he was enjoying the experience so much but, allowed himself to let go and melt into Viktor Nikiforov. 

Yuuri squeaked when the other boy bit his lip gently, and ran his finger tips over his nipples underneath his shirt, and felt Viktor smile against his mouth at the reaction.

'Am I actually making out with a guy, and enjoying it at the same time?' 

Yuuri pushed these thoughts out of his mind focused on trying to please Viktor, kissing deeper. 

The other skater inwardly celebrated at Yuuri's reaction to his actions and slid his hand down his front and between his legs, lifting one up under the knee and placing it over his shoulder.

Yuuri's hands ventured up, one travelling underneath Viktor's shirt and the other tangling into his hair, which was surprisingly soft. He tugged at it gently and was surprised by the purr that came from Viktor's throat. Then, it was Yuuri's turn to moan as the Russian's knee nudged into Yuuri's crotch.

"You're hard for me, Yuuri, did you know that?" Viktor whispered into his ear, before biting the lobe.

Those words caused Yuuri to arch his back slightly, his lips parting as he allowed his hips to grind onto Viktor's knee, a lewd moan filling the room. 

Viktor replaced his knee with the palm of his hand, rubbing Yuuri through the material of his jeans. 

The Russian smirked as he felt the Japanese boy cling to him, begging for more friction and so slowly, he undid the zip on Yuuri's trousers.

A shaky breath escaped Yuuri as he felt Viktor's cool hand wrap around him.

"Vitya!" He moaned, as Viktor began to move his hand up and down Yuuri's lenght, slowly but rhythmically.

A stream of incoherent moans spilled out Yuuri's mouth as he felt himself get dragged closer and closer to the edge. Viktor brought his hand back under his shirt and Yuuri tried to conceal his pleasure by biting his lip, but Viktor wouldn't have it.

"Yuuri, that's not fair, you've got to let me hear you," he breathed, running his thumb over the tip of Yuuri's length, eliciting a loud and throaty moan from him, which Viktor liked, very much.

"V-Vitya, I think I'm about to-" Yuuri failed to form proper sentences as Viktor continued stroking, harder and faster, sliding his thumb over the slit every now and again, delivering the sweetest mewls from the other boy.

Suddenly, Yuuri's orgasm crashed over him, his back arching into Viktor's grip as he came, spilling into the other boy's hand, face and neck crimson, and his eyes dark.

As he rested his back back on the sofa, the reality of what just happened hit him.

"V-Viktor? Um..." He was about to apologise, for some reason, before Viktor silenced him with a gentle kiss.

"It's okay Yuuri, it's okay."

Yuuri wasn't even sure what that meant, as he stared at the other boy, who was stretching and clenching his hand as sticky liquid dripped down his fingers. He leaped up instantly and went to grab tissue, but Viktor followed him.

"Is it okay if I take a shower?" He asked politely, but there was a hint of insistence underneath the words. Yuuri glanced to the floor, but his eye was caught by the tent that had formed in Viktor's trousers and he instantly understood.

As he heard the shower turn on, he sat back down on the sofa, suddenly feeling very tired. He thought about what happened, and came to a conclusion about himself.

'Well, I think I'm gay... I think.' He yawned and kicked his feet up, trying to stay awake, however, he found himself taken over by exhaustion as his eyes burnt an his limbs finally relaxed.

When Viktor emerged from the shower, 40 minutes later with dry hair, but smelling of lavender, he saw Yuuri asleep on the sofa. He smiled to himself, his eyes grazing over his slight body and tussled hair.

"How cute..." he whispered, before deciding that he should take him to bed. He saw only one other door in the room and on the other side, found Yuuri's box bedroom. He drew the curtains and, noticing the darkness outside, checked his phone. It was 23:45. He then pulled back the duvet covers before returning to the main room. Not wanting to wake Yuuri, he carefully slid an arm under the other boy's and hooked his other arm under his knees. Gathering his strength, he lifted the sleeping boy, whose head fell against Viktor's chest causing him to smile. He carried him into the bedroom and laid him gently onto the bed, pausing for a moment as Yuuri stirred in his sleep, murmuring something about 'katsudon', whatever that was. He then walked to the other side of the bed and settled himself next to Yuuri, facing him, and pulled the duvet up and over the both of them.

After a short while, Viktor too found himself fall into the arms of sleep, his hand loosely entwined with Yuuri's. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some time to write today, after having 3 exams RIP, I failed French.  
> I made this chapter extra long to make up for my absence :)  
> I'm not experienced in writing anything like this so I'd be interested to see what you think?


	7. Attitude Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri dislikes clothes shopping and Viktor decides to teach him a lesson about attitude in a rather unconventional way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 7!! 
> 
> Don't like boy x boy? Then don't read ;)

The next day was a Saturday. 

There was no alarm to wake Yuuri or Viktor up as they remained asleep, Yuuri's back pressing into Viktor's chest, the Russian's left arm under the other boy's neck and the other wrapped around his lower back and onto his torso.

Yuuri awoke first, blinking slowly as he began to wake. He shifted his head to look behind himself. Viktor was still sleeping peacefully, his lips slightly parted and his eyebrows lightly stitched together, invested in whatever dream he was having and his silver hair scattered over the pillow. Yuuri smiled to himself and rested his head on the bed, allowing himself to relax and just enjoy the feeling of closeness. 

He cast his mind back to the night before, and bit his lip, feeling his face warm up.

'Did that seriously happen?'

He went to shift his leg slightly, in order to stretch it, but Viktor's grip tightened on Yuuri's body and his hand curled up and placed itself on the side of his face, pulling Yuuri's head toward him slightly.

It was not an ideal position and Viktor's fingertips were lightly brushing around Yuuri's naval, in a backwards and forwards motion. Yuuri tried to reach down to pry away Viktor's hand but the Russian only nuzzled into the crook of Yuuri's neck and whined quietly.

Yuuri raised and eyebrow suspiciously, 'is he awake?'

He decided to test his theory by trying to curl in on himself, but Viktor grumbled and pulled him back again.

With a smile, Yuuri pushed his leg back and kicked Viktor.

"Ow! What was that for!?" 

Yuuri looked around again as Viktor pouted, retracting the arm from around Yuuri's face and rubbing his eyes.

"I knew you were awake, it was pretty obvious." Yuuri turned over to face the other boy with a smile, receiving a poke in the abdomen from Viktor.

"Now we're even." He smiled.

"About last night," Yuuri said, pulling the duvet further up over them, like children in a blanket fort, "um, I'm sorry."

Viktor drew his eyebrows together.

"What for?"

"I have no experience and like, you were so amazing and sexy and I probably seemed like a bloated seal or something in comparison so -"

Viktor choked.

"A bloated seal? Seriously?"

"Well, yeah..."

"You obviously didn't hear yourself, Yuuri" Viktor smirked, and the other boy blushed.

Yuuri smiled at Viktor weakly, sensing the encouragement that he was trying to give, before wiggling himself closer to Viktor and pressing his face into his chest. He breathed in as he felt the other boy's lips press against his forehead, the scent of lavender filling his nose.

"Hey, you smell like me," he said surprised.

"Well I did shower yesterday, but you fell asleep on the sofa."

"Oh... wait. How did I get here then?"

Viktor smiled to himself, finding it funny how Yuuri had forgotten the minor details of the night before in favour of remembering the intense pleasure he had felt.

"I had to carry you to bed like a princess - you're actually quite heavy."

Yuuri poked him at the last remark but blushed at the thought of being carried by Viktor like some hopeless, overgrown kitten.

"But, if you showered, why is the bed not damp?" He asked, once again confused.

"Because I didn't wash my hair."

"What was the point of showering then?"

"Well, washing my hair was really what was on my mind if I'm honest."

"Then what were..." Yuuri remembered that Viktor hadn't climaxed the night before, and the overpowering smell of lavender suddenly made sense.

"Oh..." He said, his face burning.

"Yeah..."

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine, you can just return the favour at some point, eh?" Viktor smirked

Yuuri squeaked.

They remained in silence for a few more minutes before Viktor declared it was time to get up and eat something before he "died of starvation".

Upon opening the fridge and finding nothing, and finding nothing that he deemed suitable in the mess of shopping bags scattered over the floor, Viktor began to question Yuuri about what he'd been eating over the past few days.

"Oh, y'know, cereal bars, sandwiches, that kind of thing." Yuuri had answered, dismissively before Viktor grabbed him , with tears in his eyes.

"No one as cute as you is going to live of cereal bars! Do you want to waste away? I'd rather you were a bloated seal! That's it, we're going out for breakfast, and then I'm taking you shopping."

"But, Viktor-"

"No buts! Go and get changed."

Viktor put on his clothes from the day before and then waited for Yuuri to appear. They left the flat and Yuuri began heading to the bus stop.

"Er, Yuuri? I have a car, remember?" Viktor laughed as the other boy turned around sheepishly and walked back over to the Russian who was leaning against the SUV like some kind of model. Yuuri got into the passenger side and Viktor behind the wheel. The drive was relatively silent, and the only real conversation they had was over what cafe to eat at.

They both agreed on waffles.

Yuuri insisted on visiting somewhere small, and not being crammed into a booth at a retail branch.

The place they ended up was small indeed, but the waffles made up for it in their vast size. Yuuri, having not eaten a proper meal for a while, was more than ready to stuff his face with the golden goodness but Viktor, a spoilt child in comparison, wasn't sure that he'd be able to eat a whole one without bursting, as he looked at his waffle with wide eyes, as though sizing up an opponent in a boxing ring.

Five minutes passed and Yuuri had already consumed his entire waffle, and was carefully watching Viktor slowly make his way through his.

"What's taking you so long," Yuuri mused, a small trail of golden syrup running down his chin.

"It's a marathon, not a sprint, Yuuri," Viktor responded, daintily cutting his waffle into another small square - it was a rather different approach to Yuuri's more hand on method.

After a few more moments, the Russian placed his knife and fork on the side of the plate, the clatter signalling his defeat.

"Ugh," he sighed, "I don't think I can manage any more." He placed his hands in his lap as he watched Yuuri get up.

"What's wrong, Yuuri?"

"I'll finish it for you!" Yuuri was already leaning over the table, reaching for Viktor's plate.

The silver haired boy reached out too, and grabbed Yuuri's chin, sliding out his chair and standing up to meet Yuuri's height.

"Yuuri... you have a bit of syrup..."

Viktor pulled the other boy's face closer to his and proceeded to lick the golden liquid off Yuuri's chin, who just stood in shock, a blush forming on his face as the Russian drew away and licked his lips before sitting back down, acting perfectly normally. He silently thanked any gods up there that the shop was empty and the staff were all in the kitchens.

Yuuri sat back down too, placing Viktor's plate on top of his own and soon forgetting about what had happened as he indulged himself in the half eaten waffle. You can't waste food, right?

Viktor was shocked that Yuuri still had any space in him. Even the waitress looked surprised to see one customer with two plates in front of him, slumped back in his chair an sighing contentedly, as the odd silver haired customer gave her a slightly confused, heart shaped smile as he handed over the bill money.

Viktor then dragged Yuuri out the store.

"Right then, little piggy, let's go shopping!" He declared, slapping Yuuri on the back.

"W-what? I thought you were joking about that part!" 

"Nope! We need to spruce up you flat, and your wardrobe, so I'm taking you shopping - no arguments!"

Viktor placed his finger over his lips as Yuuri went to protest, telling the other boy that he had no way of getting out of their shopping trip.

"Ugh! Fine!" Yuuri gave in.

\---------------

They spent hours browsing through department stores, Viktor pushing trolleys and Yuuri holding baskets, much against his will, as Viktor piled in item after item. The Russian picked up many random items, such as candles, air fresheners, herbs and blue tack. When questioned by Yuuri as to why he was picking up such random stuff, he simply replied with "you never know," or "don't worry, I'm paying for it."

Yuuri had to admit that he liked watching Viktor get excited over pot plants or stop to pet other people's dogs. He also realised how tall he was, as he helped a small boy reach a toy off a high shelf, handing the toy over with a bright smile, sending the boy running back to his mother brimming with happiness.

"Check you," Yuuri remarked, "helping kids out like that." He placed the basket onto the floor to nurse his hands that were becoming cramped and sore from carrying the heavy object around.

"What can I say?" Viktor stated, walking closer to Yuuri and picking up the basket. He lent into his ear. "I just like to play daddy sometimes."

Yuuri's eyes widened as he turned to meet Viktor's face.

"V-Viktor-" He stammered.

"Let's go! We need to find you some new clothes." He grabbed Yuuri's arm, dropping the conversation that Yuuri was about to start as he dragged him to the tills and paid, a playful smile on his lips.

They walked together down the high street, Yuuri over encumbered with shopping bags, a plant repeatedly stabbing him in the neck as he got more and more frustrated. Viktor's never ending enthusiasm was irritating him as the Russian kept walking in and out of different clothes stores, before eventually deciding on one. To Yuuri's surprise, it wasn't a high end one, but a more budget, everyday kind of shop.

Nevertheless, Yuuri didn't like the shop, or the people in it, or the smell, or the clothes. He glared at passersby and made comments about noisy teenagers and crying babies.

He dragged his feet as he followed Viktor through the rails of clothes, sighing as Viktor pulled out random tshirts, jackets, jeans and even shoes.

"Yuuri, what about this? It would look good on you."

"Okay."

"Oh, and these too, these are cute."

"Yup..."

Viktor placed his hand on his hip and raised his eyebrow, not appreciative of Yuuri's attitude.

"Shall I get you this bra too?" He huffed.

"Yeah..."

"Yuuri!"

"What now? Aren't we done yet?" Yuuri huffed, stamping his foot like a child.

Viktor decided that it was time to teach the Japanese boy a lesson, and make him appreciate the favour he was doing for him.

"Yuuri," he grabbed the boy by the shoulder harshly, making Yuuri come back to his senses, "I've had enough of this attitude."

Yuuri gulped as the Russian turned him around, shoving clothes into one of the other boy's hands, his own hand pushing into Yuuri's lower back, guiding him toward the fitting rooms. The woman at the doorway smiled at them, checking the number of items they had and handing them two cards. Viktor smiled sweetly, his fingertips still pushing against Yuri, who too forced out a smile.

They walked down the small corridor and round a corner out of sight, and Viktor pushed Yuuri into one of the small rooms.

Thankfully, it had a door.

Without saying anything, Viktor took the clothes off Yuuri and hooked the hangers on the door.

"V-Viktor-"

Viktor quickly put his hand over Yuuri's mouth, and pushed him against the wall, a dark look in his eye.

"All you've been doing is complaining since we stepped foot in this shop." He said, lowly.

"Here I am, trying to do something nice for you and this is how you act, come on Yuuri."

Yuuri tugged Viktor's palm away from his mouth, acknowledging what he said to be true.

"Listen Viktor, I'm sorry, I just hate clothes shopping and some stupid plant has been hitting me in the leg for the past hour."

Viktor pouted.

"I'm sorry, Vitya... I didn't mean it. How can I make it up to you?" Yuuri pleaded, watching Viktor's eyes dilate and his mouth smirk at his last words.

"Well... there is one thing you can do for me, Yuuri." The Russian whispered, pressing his body against the other boy's against the wall and pressing kisses into his neck, before leaning back.

"On your knees."

"H-Huh?" Yuuri breathed, as he felt Viktor's hand on his head, pushing him onto the floor. The floor boards were cold and so was the wall, but he was wedged between them, blocked by Viktor's legs.

"I'm doing you a favour, and you need to return one from last night, Yuuri." Viktor said huskily, as he lowered his hands and forced Yuuri to look up at him.

'Oh shit... he means... oh my god... who wouldn't, right?'

Apparently, he would.

Viktor moved his hands to his belt and began to unbuckle it, the metal inches from Yuuri's face, who flinched as either side of the belt hung on either side of the Russian.

"Come on, Yuuri, won't you help me out?" He pleaded, but there was no question in his voice, just demand.

"S-sure." Yuuri gulped, realising what he was about to do as he reached for Viktor's trouser zip and carefully undid it, Viktor releasing a long breath as he did so.

"I, um... I haven't done this before, and - and we're in public-"

"That's okay, I'll be quiet." Viktor winked and bit his lip, sending a shiver of anticipation down Yuuri's spine.

Yuuri shuffled the other boy's trousers down slightly and then slowly pulled down the material of Viktor's briefs. His eyes widened like a kid's in a candy store as Viktor's half erection sprang out from underneath. He tentatively wrapped around it and pulled down, pulling back the foreskin and causing Viktor to growl slightly.

"Vitya? Did I do something-"

"Keep going," Viktor breathed out, and Yuuri began to pump his hand up and down, watching Viktor's member grow more from his ministrations.

The silver haired boy was breathing hard and Yuuri ran his thumb over the tip. Viktor moaned, before bracing his hand against the wall and placing his other hand over his mouth to muffle himself. Gaining confidence, Yuuri opened his mouth and looked up, to see Viktor's turquoise eyes watching his every move. He stretched out his tongue and placed it at the base of Viktor's shaft before dragging upward, without breaking eye contact.  The Russian's eyes rolled backward as Yuuri began to repeat this action, saliva beginning to build up on Vikor's now fully erect length.

He slowly wrapped his mouth around the tip and sucked lightly and suddenly, the hand bracing Viktor against the wall was in Yuuri's hair. Smirking, the boy on the floor began to suck harder, causing a deep moan to come from Viktor who was still clamping his mouth shut. Yuuri proceeded to take the whole of the other boy's length into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks to accommodate the size.

Viktor watched in lust as he saw his manhood disappear into Yuuri's hot mouth, the wetness turning him on even more as Yuuri's cheeks closed around him like tight walls and began to suck, bobbing his head up and down. Viktor used the hand in his hair to guide him as he lewdly fucked Yuuri's mouth in a clothes shop fitting room, biting his knuckles to keep him from moaning too much.

'Shit, this kid is good.' He thought to himself, watching Yuuri pull the member out of his mouth and licking up the side once more, panting as a trail of saliva dripped down his chin like the golden syrup from earlier that morning. Viktor couldn't help but wonder what actually fucking Yuuri would be like, instead of just his mouth - but that would have to wait for a time he'd be able to hear the other boy scream his name in mercy until the sun came up. 

Yuuri wasn't sure how anyone couldn't hear them. Even though Viktor was trying to be quiet, he was still releasing short, sharp breaths and the wet noises of Yuuri's mouth were pretty audible as he sucked and swallowed around Viktor. His own hard-on was growing within his jeans and as he continued to suck Viktor, he undid his own trousers and moaned around the object his his mouth as he began to masturbate. 

A spark of pleasure shot straight through Viktor as Yuuri's moan vibrated around his member. He could feel precum dripping out of himself as he pulled out of Yuuri, allowing him to breath and continue pumping himself. He too had precum dripping around his length and his hand was covered in it as the sound of it filled the small changing room.

"Yuuri~ you're too sexy you, know that?" Viktor cooed as he held up the other boy's face to meet his gaze. Yuuri's eyes were heavily lidded and his pupils blown, his lips were parted and coated in his saliva and his hair was messy and his glasses halfway down his nose as he mewled in ecstasy, his hand frantically pumping up and down. Viktor relished the sight as he guided Yuuri's open mouth back to his neglected member. The boy took it in hungrily, sucking hard and moaning around the flesh as he allowed more saliva to flow from his mouth.

"You like that, don't you pet?" Viktor whispered lustily, not sure how Yuuri would take the name but concluded he liked it as Yuuri began to moan more and send vibrations through Viktor's manhood.

Viktor could begin himself begin to climax and so gripped onto Yuuri's hair harder and began to quickly thrust into his mouth, his tip hitting the back of Yuuri's throat, causing the Russian to arch his back as he repeatedly assaulted the back of Yuuri's mouth. The boy seemed to have no gag reflex as he received the pounding well, breathing heavily out of his nose as he continued to tighten his mouth and pump his hand even harder.

"Yuuri, I-I'm going to come, if you d-don't stop," he groaned out, feeling the knot in the pit of his stomach grow tighter.

Yuuri too could feel his climax approaching and so whirled his tongue around the tip each time he had the chance, sending waves of pleasure through Viktor as his nerve endings were overwhelmed and with a low, throaty moan, he arched his back and thrust his hips hard into Yuuri as he orgasmed, his breathing hard and his legs shaking as he came hard in Yuuri's mouth.

The sensation sent Yuuri over the edge as he spilled over his hand and onto the floor, loosing control of himself for a moment as he stroked out his high, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he moaned loudly against Viktor's now softening member.

Viktor slowly pulled out, tucking himself back in and doing up his trousers and belt. He dropped on to the floor to be with Yuuri, who had his mouth shut together and his cheeks puffed out, his face incredibly flushed.

"Yuuri... fuck, are you okay?" He asked, placing his hand on the side of his face.

Yuuri went to speak but white liquid spilled out to join the mess of saliva on his chin.

"Oh Yuuri, swallow for me, okay?" He said, in an almost parent like tone as he stroked Yuuri's throat with his thumb, encouraging him to swallow, which Yuuri did with a large gulp, and slightly sour face.

"Good boy," Viktor praised, pulling Yuuri into a hug.

"Vitya?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry for being a jerk, I really do appreciate what you're doing for me."

"I forgive you, especially if you'll  do this every time you get on my nerves." Viktor smiled before standing up.

They decided that they should probably see if the clothes fit which thankfully, they did. Viktor found some tissue and let Yuuri clean himself up while he placed their final decisions back onto their respective hangers.

When they emerged from the fitting room and went to return the cards to the assistant, they found her sat behind her desk, a blush on her face. She didn't meet either of their eyes as she took back the cards and asked if the clothes fit.

Clearly they hadn't been as quiet as they thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it me or is it hot in here?
> 
> Hope you liked it!!
> 
> I have 5 exams this week so I don't know if I'll be able to update again until Saturday RIP but we'll see what happens.


	8. Yawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor takes charge of Yuuri's well being after realising he's not as stable as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been gone for so long, I'm so sorry!!
> 
> Anyway, here's chapter 8!!

After accepting the fact that Yuuri had had enough shopping for one day, Viktor took him back to the car, letting him recover from their... intimate moment by taking the majority of the shopping bags and hoping that the handles didn't snap under the strain.

In all honesty, Viktor hated driving. He thought it was too much work and as an ice skater, saw no elegance in it whatsoever. Although, after a few minuets of silence and looking to the left to see if Yuuri was okay, he smiled when he saw that the other boy had fallen asleep, his head swaying from the motion of the car.

'This is too cute,' he mused as drool came out of Yuuri's mouth and reaching for his phone for a sly photo.

When they arrived back at the flats, Viktor brought the car to the most gentle stop he could manage and quietly unbuttoned his seat belt. He shuffled over the seat and lent over the gear stick, leaning his face toward the other boy, warm breath blowing gently over his sleeping face.

"Yuuuuri~" He whispered sweetly, lightly tapping his leg.

No response.

"Yuuri? Yuuri we're here..." He tapped a little harder this time and Yuuri stirred, his eyes opening and settling on Viktor's face.

Having not expected someone's face to be three inches from his own as he woke up, Yuuri jumped, knocking his head against the window. Viktor too jumped back before turning to get out the car. He walked briskly round to the passenger side and opened the door, rolling his eyes as Yuuri just sat and stared at him, holding back a yawn.

"Come on, Yuuri, we have a flat to decorate!"

"Huh- Oh yeah, sure." Still feeling tired, Yuuri slid out of his seat and followed Viktor to the boot as the Russian unloaded the shopping bags, not complaining as he still bore most of the weight by carrying the heaviest objects and bags.

"Thanks for doing this, Viktor. I really do appreciate it." Yuuri said quietly as they walked to the car.

"It's my pleasure, Yuuri," he replied, genuinely, waiting patiently as Yuuri opened the door to the building. Without a word he started for the stairs, resisting the younger boy's attempts to take bags from him. Viktor knew he was too tired - he could tell by his not so sly hand bracing himself against the wall as they clambered up the stairs.

Yuuri, too tired to try and make conversation and finding himself too weary, reached his hand out toward Viktor.

"Vitya..." he whispered, and the Russian turned abruptly, surprised to hear that nickname in such a mundane situation, and nearly dropped his bags as Yuuri's hand balled a load of Viktor's coat into his grip.

"Tired..." he again whispered, covering his mouth as he yawned and then looking up into Viktor's eyes. The other's eyes stared back in wonder.

'He's like... a child,' Viktor thought to himself, a blush forming on his face as he realised he hadn't continued to walk yet, and so he slowly resumed their journey, weighed further down by Yuuri who was still clinging to him.

They received questioning looks as the pretty Russian man lugged an unreasonable amount of bags down the hallway, leading with him a zoned out Japanese boy who's eyes were lidded and heavy and his feet dragging against the carpet.

Upon reaching Yuuri's door, Viktor placed his bags on the floor, gently, with a sigh of relief, before carefully unwrapping Yuuri's fingers from the hem of his coat.

"Yuuri, where's your key?" He said sweetly, and waited as the other boy reached into his own pocket and withdrew his key, handing it to Viktor before bracing himself against the wall once more. Viktor raised his eyebrow in concern, not sure as to why Yuuri was so fatigued worry growing in his stomach as he noticed how pale the other boy was.

He opened the door quickly and dragged the bags inside into the kitchen area, kicking them into the corner, now not caring what got damaged - his priority now was Yuuri.

He turned on his heel and ran back out, flicking on the light as he went. In the corridor, he found Yuuri slumped against the wall, staring blankly at the door opposite, breathing unevenly.

"Oh come on, Yuuri, don't be like this." Viktor said to no one in particular, before gathering the other boy up into his arms and carrying him into the apartment. He awkwardly shuffled sideways down the entrance corridor, his arms straining under the dead weight, panic beginning to take over him as Yuuri began to shake.

Viktor kicked the bedroom door open before heaving Yuuri onto the bed, rearranging the pillows behind his head, before sitting down next to him and feeling his forehead. Thankfully, he wasn't burning up.

"Hey, Yuuri? Yuuri, honey, talk to me - are you okay?" He tried to keep the worry out of his voice and his heart fluttered in relief as Yuuri looked up at him and smiled weakly.

Viktor cupped his hand around the other boy's cheek and stroked the skin comfortingly. It felt cold to the touch, though it was warm in the room.

"I'm fine, Viktor, I'm fine," Yuuri said, weakly, "I'm just a little tired, I promise." He shifted his hand to hold the one cupping his cheek, reassuring Viktor that he was telling the truth, feeling glad as the concerned look in his face slowly edged away.

"You just- You just panicked me, y'know? Like, you've gotta tell me if you're not feeling good and I'll take care of you..." The Russian scanned Yuuri's body for any further signs of distress, and feeling at ease when he saw none.

"I'm sorry Viktor, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You could never upset me."

"Viktor... can I sleep now?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, of course..."

Yuuri's eyes fluttered closed, his body finally relaxing and Viktor stood back for a moment, checking that he was comfortable. When he was sure, he gently tugged the duvet out from underneath him and draped it over the other boy, removing his glasses, folding them and placing them quietly onto the side table.

Then, he returned to the living room and flopped into the sofa, rubbing his face in his palms before his eyes rested on the shopping bags.

He smiled.

Maybe a surprise would cheer Yuuri up.

\---------------

Yuuri woke up some time later.

He didn't really remember how he got into bed but he felt comfy... for once.

Yawning, he turned on his side and reached toward the side table, searching for his glasses, which he then slipped on, pushing them up his nose as he slowly sat up.

He felt a little hungry.

'I wonder if there's any cereal bars left...'

He stripped the duvet away, slowly placing his feet on the floor, not trusting his own strength. He felt his way to the door and suddenly heard a clang.

"For the love of ice, not again, _dammit!_ "

'Huh? Is that Vitya's voice?' He opened the door cautiously, peering through the opening.

Viktor was stood on the sofa, which was shifted toward the side wall of the apartment, balancing on the arm, his shoes still laced and tossed on the floor. His coat was hanging precariously over the kitchen counter, his jacket, however, hadn't made it and was on the floor beneath. Observing the room further, Yuuri could see that a pile of empty bags were sat by the front door and small house plants were dotted around the place, and a small rug had been placed outside the bathroom door. A collection of candles were scattered over the coffee table, next to a pair of speakers. A painting of a tiger had been hung on the wall and the unoccupied corner of the sofa held unwrapped blankets and cushions.

Viktor himself was braced against the wall, his silver hair stuck to his forehead as he panted in frustration. He'd pushed his shirt sleeves to his elbows and he looked generally a mess. Under one of his hands was one end of a set of fairy lights, the other end pooling onto the floor. After a moment, the Russian took a deep breath and lifted the lights up, quickly draping them over some hooks he'd placed in the walls.

It slipped off.

With a growl of irritation, Viktor half fell off the sofa and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

"Viktor the handy-man, hey?" Yuuri spoke up.

Still out of breath, Viktor jumped, a hand reaching to his chest and clutching it as though he were having a heart attack. He rested his head against the wall and laughed.

"My God, Yuuri, you scared me! Do you like what I've done with the place?" He swung his arms out and waved at his work, smiling.

Yuuri shuffled out of the door, looking around him. He realised then exactly what Viktor had done.

He'd made him a home.

He'd gone out of his way to decorate his shitty apartment with things that he bought himself with his own money. And for what?

A tear slipped from Yuuri's eye.

Viktor's face fell.

"Yuuri?"

He hauled himself off the floor and approached Yuuri like a stray kitten.

Tears started to pour out Yuuri's eyes as he sniffled, trying to wipe them away with the back of his hand but just soaking his sleeve.

As soon as Viktor got close enough, he leaped toward him, and the other boy wrapped his arms around him instinctively.

"Woah, where'd that come from? You really don't like it?" He half laughed, shocked by Yuuri's such extreme reaction to him putting some decorations up in his front room.

"No-No, that's not it. I love it Vitya, I love it." He sobbed.

Viktor was stunned.

'What did I do to have this boy in my life?' He asked himself, reaching a hand to Yuuri's head and stroking his hair whispering to him to get him to calm down.

"It's okay, I wanted to surprise you when you woke up, that's all... shh, it's okay, Yuuri."

He swayed from side to side a little, remembering how the smaller boy had drifted off to the motion of the car. It seemed to help as Yuuri's sobs became less frequent and he took to rubbing his cheek against Viktor's chest.

"Thank you, Viktor, thank you so much..."

Viktor's heart melted.

"You went out of your way to take care of me and buy me things and decorate my flat... and now I feel like I have an actual home... somewhere safe."

Something clicked in the Russian's head.

"Yuuri... when did you last eat before we had waffles this morning?"

Yuuri had to think for a moment.

"Um, yesterday morning, I think..."

Viktor stared.

"And what did you eat?"

"A cereal bar?"

"A cereal bar."

"Yeah..."

"And what about the time before that?

"I... I don't remember..."

Viktor's heart hurt.

He brought Yuuri back into the kitchen and opened the fridge, out of which he pulled out two pre-made sandwiches and some chocolate. He handed them to Yuuri.

"Please, Yuuri, eat."

"But Viktor I-"

"It's not open for discussion, I'm afraid," he huffed.

Yuuri yawned.

"I wanna sleep instead"

Viktor was torn. Yuuri desperately needed to eat. He suspected that he hadn't properly eaten anything since he arrived in Russia and it was seriously affecting his health. It also explained how he'd eaten those waffles so easily. But, he didn't want to upset Yuuri again.

"Okay then, here's the deal princess..." he suddenly hauled Yuuri over his shoulder, his grip secure around his legs.

"H-Hey Viktor put me down!" Yuuri clung onto the food, trying to kick Viktor as he walked toward the bedroom.

"If you eat that food for me I'll cuddle you until you fall asleep. How's that?"

The Russian gently laid Yuuri on the bed and awaited his response.

Yuuri stared at him.

He sat up on his knees, looking between the sandwiches and chocolate and then to Viktor. He looked hard at the label as he flushed.

"I mean... I guess... I guess I could eat something... I suppose... just to say thanks for what you've done."

Viktor smiled in victory, pulling off his sweat clad shirt and trousers and walking round to the other side of the bed.

"Uh, Viktor, why are you-"

"-Oh don't mind me, I always sleep like this." He shuffled his way under the duvet and toward Yuuri who'd begun to unwrap his food and slowly eat.

Viktor finally felt himself relax as he saw Yuuri swallow, happy that he'd convinced him to eat at least something but also angry at himself for not seeing the signs sooner.

He reached an arm around Yuuri, who leaned into him as he finished the first sandwich and moved onto the next one. Suddenly he was gone, and stood in the middle of the floor.

"Yuuri?"

"I, er, I need my pyjamas... in order to sleep better..."

Viktor chuckled to himself.

'Of course he does.'

"Go on then, get changed."

Yuuri grabbed his clothes and to Viktor's slight disappointment, left the room to change.

While he was gone, Viktor checked Yuuri's phone for the time.

'22:46'

Yuuri returned, sandwich in hand and slipped under the covers, eating quickly to try and avoid getting crumbs everywhere.

"Hey, Viktor..."

"Hm?"

"Is it alright to leave this?" He gestured to the chocolate. "I just really want to sleep right now."

Viktor huffed.

"...Fine."

Yuuri smiled in gratitude before snuggling down under the duvet. Viktor rolled onto his side, pulling the smaller boy towards him and allowing him to rest on his arm, reaching his hand back to play with Yuuri's hair.

Yuuri sighed contentedly at the sensation as Viktor's body heat began to warm him, having not realised how cold he was. The Russian placed small kisses on the back of his head and shifted his hand to stroke his shoulder.

  
Yuuri's eyes began to feel warm and heavy as his eyelashes began to blur his vision as he melted into Viktor's touch.

When Viktor heard Yuuri's breathing even out and felt his chest rise and fall steadily, he leaned over and placed a kiss on the side of his mouth, noticing that the boy's eyebrows were stitched together, as if focusing within his dreams.

His grip on him grew slightly tighter and he whispered softly.

"Don't worry anymore, I'm here..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Let me know!
> 
> I have another two or so weeks left of exams, and then updates should be regular :)
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me <3


	9. Definitely Not Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri insists on bringing alcohol to Yuuri's apartment and Viktor learns an interesting piece of history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No... it's me after 70,000 years!

The next day began slowly. 

Yuuri awoke to the smell of bacon, the scent wafting into the bedroom and stirring him from his sleep. Grabbing his glasses he wandered out into the front room, smiling to himself as he saw his now transformed flat and Viktor leaning over the hob in a pair of Yuuri's sweats.

It was definitely a sight he could get used to.

"Morning," he yawned, moving further toward the bacon.

"Ah, you're finally awake, Yuuri!" Viktor smiled, moving the pan to two plates holding buttered bread and shuffling an even distribution of crispy bacon onto each.

"You didn't have to do that, I could have just had a cere-"

"If you say cereal bar in front of me again I'll slap you."

His tone wasn't completely joking.

"Aha... okay then. Man, I haven't had bacon in ages." Yuuri took a plate gratefully and by the time Viktor joined him on the couch, he was half finished.

"What day is it today?" 

"Sunday."

"Right... what are we going to do?"

"I don't know, I thought we could-"

Viktor was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. He set his plate down and fished into his pocket.

"It's Yuri."

Yuuri slowly continued to eat his sandwich, eyeing Viktor closely as he answered.

"Heyo Yuri, what's up?"

_"Oi, where the hell have you been? I came to your house yesterday and you weren't there and I'm back again and guess what? You're still not here."_

"Oh, I'm at Yuuri's - why did you come to my house anyway?"

_"You said Beka and me could come drink at your house yesterday but it seems you bailed for your new boyfriend, huh."_

"Um, Yuri, he's not-"

_"Have you fucked him yet?"_

"Hey! Mind you're language and no, no I haven't so mind your own business kid!"

_"We're in the same year so don't give me that bs and besides, I know you want to, you think he's cute anyway."_

"So what if I do? Anyway, sorry about last night, what about the end of this week-"

_"What about today? Beka's free too. We can come to Yuuri's if you're that desperate to stay with him."_

Viktor could feel Yuri smirking into the phone and simply rolled his eyes before covering the mic with his palm and turning to Yuuri.

"Hey, would you mind if Yuri and Otabek come over later?"

"Oh, uh, sure why not. They'll need my address though."

He was a little confused as to why they were coming but as long as Viktor was happy, he was happy too he supposed.

"Yuuri says it's fine. Be here at 7, I'll text you the address."

_"Aw, how kind of your boyfriend. I'll buy the alcohol so you can just stay and do whatever you do with Yuuri, just don't let the neighbours hear and don't forget to use protection!"_

Viktor raised an eyebrow and was ready to deliver an excellent comeback when Yuri hung up with a laugh.

"Ugh, that kid..."

"Everything okay?" Yuuri couldn't help but feel amused at how easily Yuri was able to cut off Viktor over the phone and irritate him.

"Yeah - I told him he could come and drink with me yesterday but I got caught up with you, haha."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry Viktor! You should have said something!"

'There you go again Yuuri, taking up people's time.'

"It's fine, really, I completely forgot anyway."

Yuuri sat awkwardly as Viktor finished his sandwich. When he was done, he took the plates and went to wash them up along with the pan.

"Hey, Yuuri, have you ever gotten drunk before?" Viktor appeared beside him with a cloth to dry.

Yuuri's face flushed at the question as he thought back to the last time he'd consumed alcohol.

"Um... well, I haven't had a drink in that sense for about a year but..."

"... but?" Viktor encouraged him, knowing he was about to learn something either hilarious or disturbing.

"According to my sister I ended up pole dancing after two glasses of champagne," 

Viktor dropped the plate he was drying.

"You did what now? Wait, since when did you pole dance? Yuuri, what?"

Luckily the plate was only plastic so Viktor reached down to pick it up, eyes lingering on Yuuri's ass as he did so.

It was a nice ass.

Yuuri felt an odd mix of embarrassment and achievement, having shocked Viktor into dropping a circular object with great enthusiasm and laughed as the Russian stood back up.

"I don't actually remember what happened, I just know I did it. My sister tells me I was trying to flirt with people too but I don't know if I believe her though..."

Viktor's wide eyes narrowed as he realised the opportunity the evening was going to bring him. He quickly texted Yuri the address and added a side note of 'bring champagne pls :)' before hitting send.

It was time to get Yuuri Katsuki drunk.

\---------------

The rest of the morning and afternoon was fairly mundane. Viktor finally managed to put up the wretched fairy lights and he helped Yuuri give arranged objects a new home. They topped it off with a vanilla scented candle before sitting and waiting for Otabek and Yuri.

Viktor was more than restless, sitting down and standing up like a broken toy and pacing around the apartment and staring into nothingness.

Yuuri didn't really want to question him and so sat and thought about how he didn't want to drink too much, given the consequences of 'that time'.

At 6:47pm, the was a loud knock on the door.

Yuuri leaped up to answer it and swung the door open to present Yuri and Otabek, the blond panting heavily and Otabek holding two heavy looking bags, but looking pretty much the same as normal.

"How the bloody hell do you survive here? Those damn stairs are a death trap!"

Yuuri just laughed and scratched the back of his neck before gesturing them inside. He took the bags off Otabek and placed them on the kitchen counter before joining the others.

"Sorry there's not much space," he apologised but neither of them seemed to mind as Yuri just settled into Otabek's lap and Yuuri figured that that's what they probably do anyway.

He awkwardly hovered, there being no space to left to sit on the sofa so he settled for sitting on the floor.

"Aw, Yuuri, you could always sit on my lap if you like?" Viktor teased, laughing as Yuuri immediately flushed and shook his head.

"No! No it's fine. Um, I'll get the drinks." He scrambled to his feet and returned to the bag as the others started talking about whatever.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a few bottles, reading the labels.

Definitely not water then.

'Oh how fabulous.' he thought to himself before reaching into the cupboard for some uninspiring looking glasses and then collecting grasping the bags in the other hand.

Yuri helped helped Yuuri set out the bottles, to his surprise, and then Viktor got up and reached for a bottle of wine. Setting the glasses in a line he half filled each with the red liquid. Handing a glass to each person, they then raised them in a toast.

"To Yuuri, for providing such beautiful glasses, and giving Yuri proper exercise getting up those stairs!" Viktor declared, smirking into his wine as Yuri glared at him over the rim of his glass.

Yuri, Viktor and Otabek finished their first glasses quickly, then moving onto shots and downing beer. Otabek was surprisingly quick at drinking and Viktor's efforts to match him resulted in them both being very drunk, very quickly. Yuri had been drinking too, mainly vodka, at a rather leisurely pace, sinking further and further state of drunkenness until he was practically melting into Otabek and saying how he was going to go and make 'make friends with some kittens' or something like that. Otabek had smiled at him, telling him that he was a kitten in his own way, to which Yuri replied with an exaggerated 'meow'.

Yuuri, however, sipped his original glass of wine at a very slow pace.

Viktor was somewhat eager to change that.

"Heyy Yuuriiii, come onnn! Have anotherrr drink??" He flopped himself onto the floor next to Yuuri, leaving the blonde and Otabek to drink each other's drinks and then kiss sloppily over the arm of the chair.

"I'm happy with this, thank you Viktor." Yuuri was determined to not get drunk.

"But Yuuuuriiiiii that's not faiirrr!"

"What?? You said my name??" Yuri paused in the process of taking Otabek's shirt off, who was kissing the blonde's neck, to turn to Viktor.

"Nooo, not you you dummy hahahaha I meant Yuuuri not Yuuri!!"

"Whatt? That makes no sense at allll??"

"Uggh you two I have an idea," Otabek piped up and everyone was quiet to listen to him.

"Why don't we call Yuri Yurio so we don't get confused??" He giggled, amused by his own idea.

Yuri gasped and Viktor clapped.

"That's GRREAT Bekaa!! Yesss I will be Yurioooooooo,"

Yuuri couldn't help but laugh, and suddenly Viktor's attention was back on him.

"Heyy, you're still drinkingg thatt. Surely isofff by noww ehh??"

"Viktor, what did you - hey!" Viktor had pulled the wine out of Yuuri's hands and poured it straight down is his own throat.

'Honestly, this man. Does he really want me to get drunk that bad?'

Viktor crawled back to the table and reached for an unopened bottle. Though he couldn't see the label, he had a pretty good idea as to what it was. The Russian returned to him with shiny eyes and a flushed face, holding two glasses of sparkling champagne.

"Thisss for youu," Viktor practically shoved the glass into the other boys hand, wrapping his fingers around it for him, much to Yuuri's amusement.

"Viktor... I don't drink champagne..."

Viktor gave him what couldn't be described as anything but puppy eyes.

"B-but Yuuri!! Viktor made it for you - won't you at least try some???"

Yuuri swirled the liquid around the glass. Either, he ignored Viktor and faced upsetting or, he tried a bit and shut him up.

The latter seemed more appealing.

"Hmm, I don't know Viktor..."

Suddenly, the silver haired boy was very close to him, and Yuuri jumped back, spilling the liquid all over himself.

"Ohhhhh ahahaha! Whoopsie!" Viktor laughed.

Yuuri stared down at his wet jeans and shirt, fully prepared to lecture him about the cost of clothes, before he felt soft fingers under his chin.

He looked up and into Viktor's flushed face.

"Yuuriii~ if you don't drink it, I'll have to do something naughty."

If Yuuri hadn't looked drunk before, he certainly did now. His face filled with colour immediately and he tried to move away, but Viktor reached round and held his back.

"V-Viktor, I -"

"Shhhhh Yuuuriii, I will help youu."

Viktor took a swig from his own glass before leaning in toward Yuuri.

He went to open his mouth in protest but as soon as he did, he realised his grave mistake.

Viktor smashed his lips into Yuuri's and liquid started pouring down his throat.

When the Russian pulled away, Yuuri started spluttering, and Viktor patted him (well, more like hit) on the back in a drunk attempt to help.

Yuuri was definitely a lightweight.

On top of the wine he'd drunk, he was now feeling tipsy.

He looked up at the sofa, where Yurio and Otabek were now making out, shirtless.

"Heyy! Thass my sofa, please move, please!!"

Otabek, being the more sober of the two by a fractional amount, leaned up, pushing Yurio off him and onto the floor, much to the smaller boy's surprise.

"That's not fairr Bekaa!!" He reached for his almost empty bottle of vodka and polished it off before slamming it back down on the table and nearly smashing it.

"I'm sorryy Yurioo I had tooo, Yuuri told me"

Yurio turned to Yuuri and walked toward him, pushing him against the wall.

"Oii, I don't likkee being told what to dooo so -"

"Geroff my Yuuri you prepubescent virgin!!" Viktor pulled Yurio away and sent him flying back to Otabek, who caught him before leading him into the bathroom with a bottle of wine.

Yuuri was a little stunned, so Viktor poured him another glass of champagne.

"Here, drink thisss," he held out the glass and surprisingly, Yuuri took it.

And downed the whole thing.

"Wooaahhh duude, that was cool! Do it again," he poured another glass but instead, Yuuri reached for the bottle, bringing to his lips at such an angle that most of it spilt down his chin.

"Oooh, classy!" Viktor exclaimed, snatching the bottle and doing the same.

Yuuri was well and truly drunk now.

Viktor had wondered what Yuuri would be like drunk. He'd presumed playful given his story earlier that day, or maybe philosophical but, he hadn't expected this.

After he set the bottle back down, he turned to Yuuri, who was taking his shirt off.

"Woah Yuuuuri, what you doing??"

"It's hot."

"Ohh, is it??"

"Yess, and you're making me feel too warm." Yuuri scowled at the Russian.

"I don't get ittt what do you want me to do??"

"Take you're shirt offff Vitya~"

"Vitya??"

Yuuri huffed at the Russian's lack of speed and so shuffled over to him and lifted the material over his head.

"Wooahhh, Vitya is muscular!!"

"That's because I work outtt."

"What do you work outtt?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

Yuuri  stumbled to his feet and went over to the speaker, plugging his phone in.

"Viktorr, let's dancee!!"

Viktor couldn't have been happier to accept Yuuri's offer and so stood up as the other boy shuffled his library. Impatient, he grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him toward him, burying his face into his neck and inhaling deeply.

"You smell like flowerrsss. Are you a girl??"

"Noo silly, I'm a Yuuri!! What are youu??"

"Gay!"

"Ohh cool, me too I think."

The pair started swaying their hips to the music, the smell of alcohol and eventually sweat filling the room. Yuuri became bolder and started grinding back into Viktor, who did the same as he started kissing his neck. Yuuri's head was swimming and all he could feel was heat. In a sudden wave of excitement, he pushed Viktor onto the sofa, who groaned at the loss of contact with the other boy, but Yuuri sat on top of him, maintaining the proximity.

Viktor grabbed the back of his neck and brought his lips to Yuuri's, sliding his tongue into his mouth as Yuuri reciprocated.

Yuuri started grinding his hips onto Viktor's crotch and giggling as he felt Viktor groan into the kiss and shift his hands to the smaller boys hips to hold him there. Yuuri's hands ventured up Viktor's chest and into his hair, tugging it lightly.

"Hey Vityaaa~"

"Hmm??"

"Can you have sex with me please?"

"Whatt??"

"Please???"

"Noo Yuuri, we're drunkk and you'lll regret it," Viktor argued. Even in his drunken state, he knew where and when sex was appropriate, and it was not now.

"But Yurio and Otabek are doing it in my bathroommm," Yuuri whined, grinding harder onto Viktor and moaning.

"T-that doesn't mean we should do it - and how do you know anywayy??"

"I don'ttt, I just don't think it takes two people so long to pee."

Viktor giggled.

"What's funny??"

"You're cutee Yuuriii."

"Nooo, I'm nottt!" Yuuri scowled to Viktor's delight.

But then, to Viktor's surprise, Yuuri pushed him down onto the sofa, straddling his hips.

"Yuuri, what're you doinggg??"

"I want Viktorrrr, I want to have sexxx!"

Yuuri's slurred words reminded Viktor of the consequences they'd face if they had sex now, and so sat up with a start, pinning Yuuri to the other side of the sofa.

"I've got another ideaaa," he breathed.

The Russian undid Yuuri's jeans and the boy squealed with delight.

"Are we gonna do something funnn???"

"Yesss."

Yuuri watched in confusion as Viktor started to suck his fingers and cried out in surprise as he felt them suddenly at his entrance.

"It might hurtt a little at firstt," Viktor whispered, pushing his middle finger who whined in discomfort. After waiting for a few moments, he began to move, slowly pumping his finger in and out.

Yuuri's whines of discomfort began to change into mewls of pleasure, as he gripped the cushions and tensed around Viktor as he added a second finger.

Viktor enjoyed watching Yuuri's cute facial expressions, but the tent in his own trousers was hard to ignore. With his free hand, he undid the zip and reached into his pants. Upon seeing him do so, Yuuri moaned.

"C-can I touch it??" He said, wide eyed.

Without waiting for an answer, he sat up onto his knees and leaned forward, taking Viktor's member into his hand. The silver haired boy withdrew his fingers and reached over Yuuri, reentering him suddenly and causing the boy beneath him to jolt forward in surprise.

Viktor added a third finger and began to pump harder, curling the tips of his fingers and brushing against Yuuri's prostate.

"Ahhh! What was thatt? Do it again!!"

Viktor did as his princess commanded and began to massage the same spot, causing Yuuri's legs to quiver as he struggled to keep himself upright, his head resting against Viktor's thigh.

It was quite the sight.

Deciding it was only fair to give back to Viktor, he started to lick the shaft of his member, causing the Russian to hiss and rub extra hard against Yuuri's prostate.

Yuuri sucked the tip before taking it into his mouth, sucking hard, Viktor thrusting into his mouth as he neared his orgasm.

Yuuri indicated to the Russian that he was close by humming loudly around his member and the sensation sent Viktor straight over the edge, coming into Yuuri's mouth. With a few extra pumps of his fingers, Yuuri orgasmed too before his knees gave way and he collapsed onto the sofa.

Viktor did up his trousers and Yuuri followed suit. A moment later, Yurio and Otabek emerged from the bathroom, the blonde's face even redder than before and Otabek's hair rather messy.

They both stared at the pair on the sofa, and Yurio smirked.

"God, I love alcohol."

Otabek being the most sober of the four went about moving bottles and glasses and switched off the speaker. He washed out the glasses and filled them with cold water which he handed round. They stood and drank the non alcoholic liquid for a few minutes in a desperate attempt to sober up.

"Shit I wish we didn't have school tomorrow." Yurio mumbled and the others nodded in agreement, before Otabek declared it was time to sleep.

Viktor dragged Yuuri into the bedroom to make sure the other two couldn't steal it and the younger boy fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He arranged the duvet over themselves and pulled Yuuri toward himself before his arms finally gave up, protesting against the alcohol in his system.

The next day was going to be long.

Very long.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for being gone for so long! Exams kind of took over and once they'd finished I had zero energy so I've been pretty much just trying to sleep since then but, the heat wave in England really didn't help lol I need rain to survive tbh.
> 
> Either way, I have returned so thanks for baring with me again, haha.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!! :)
> 
> I will spell check tomorrow because my brain is yelling at me to go to sleep.


	10. Blood and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri runs into trouble and is met by a poisoned tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter!! :)

Viktor knelt brushing his teeth as Yuuri threw up into the toilet, stroking his back in comfort as Yuuri wretched.

"Better out than in, Yuuri, better out than in."

Yuuri's head was spinning as the vomiting eventually stopped as he stumbled into the kitchen for more water, where Yurio already had his head stuck under the tap and his mouth open, gulping in as much as he could. Otabek seemed reasonably calm, watching the blonde closely while sipping on some tea.

'Man, how is this guy not feeling like death right now?'

"I feel like death," Viktor announced cheerfully, emerging from the bathroom and stepping briskly over to the fridge and opening it with enthusiasm.

"You don't look like it," Otabek remarked, smiling as he noticed Yuuri bracing himself against the counter.

"Head hurting?" He asked, an element of sympathy seeping into his normally blank tone.

"Hurts like hell," Yuuri grimaced as he failed to catch a water bottle that Viktor lobbed at him.

"Thanks... have we got pain killers?" He asked to the water giver.

"'We'?" Yurio turned off the tap, eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

"I mean, um-"

"I did his shopping for him - he has no idea what's in his own house, Yuri _o_ ," Viktor slipped into the bathroom once more in order to dodge Yuri's venomous glare.

Otabek laughed, earning a more soft glare from his boyfriend.

Yuuri felt a box being handed to him and read the label, seeing that it was ibuprofen and cracking open the foil. He was also confused.

"Yurio? Where'd that name come from?" He asked, all too innocently.

"Oh my Lord no way!" Yuri burst into laughter, punching Otabek, who too was giggling, playfully in the arm and pointing at Viktor, whose face was bright red.

"Oi Viktor, he doesn't remember  _a thing_ _!_ " He exclaimed, fanning himself with his hands and walking into the main room to get his shoes.

Yuuri swallowed his painkillers and watched as Otabek and Viktor also went to put their shoes on so, he placed his bottle into his rucksack and followed suit. He told them as he locked the flat that all he remembered was the others getting drunk, and swore that all he remembered drinking was a bit of the wine that he had. Viktor had laughed nervously, holding Yuuri's arm as the four slowly made their way down the stairs. Yuuri sniggered and Otabek just smiled to himself.

'Am I missing something?'

As they reached the car, Viktor declared it would be easiest for Yuuri to sit in the middle backseat so that he'd feel less sick, and as Otabek didn't want to be separated from Yuri for that long, Yuuri ended up wedged between the two, who were holding hands over his lap like a second seat belt.

"Do you seriously not remember drinking a whole bottle of champagne?" Yuri began, and Viktor's glare shot to the rear view mirror, sweat already appearing on his forehead.

Was driving seriously that hard for him?

Yuuri's face paled.

"A-A whole bottle... of champagne?" He stuttered, war flashbacks playing in his mind's eye as he remembered the conversation he'd had with his sister about the pole dancing incident.

"Yeah, Viktor told us you had a whole bottle after me and Beka went into the bathroom." Otabek said, trying to gently inform Yuuri about the events of the night before.

"The bathroom? Why there?"

"We had- ow! Beka it's not nice to pinch." Yuri scowled and Yuuri then knew he was most definitely missing something.

He shifted in his seat, trying to wriggle out of Otabek and Yuri's ever-tightening hold handing that would probably bruise his leg, but was greeted by a literal pain in the ass.

"Ow..." He whispered softly, wriggling a bit more.

"What's wrong?" Otabek ventured.

"Did I get beaten up last night or something? My ass like, stings?"

'What the hell? I'm so confused, what?' He internally questioned himself, rhetorically.

Yuri went to speak before Viktor interrupted him.

"Wow! Look at that bird, isn't that an incredible bird? Fascinating they are, birds, seriously misunderstood creatures."

"What?" The other three muttered in unison.

"I mean," Viktor then said, screeching to a stop at a red light, "that I need you all to shut up because I can't concentrate."

The rest of the journey was spent in silence and Yuuri passed the time trying to distract himself from wanting to throw up by watching Viktor drive, but, as entertaining as it could be, he still felt like the human embodiment of death.

'Note to self, don't succumb to peer pressure again.'

\----------------------------

Yuri and Otabek arrived in tutor just as the bell went, though their tutor teacher didn't really show much care.

He tried to put on his best I-so-didn't-get-really-drunk-last-night-face as he sat down with Phichit, JJ and Chris.

The two latter were busy scribbling essays onto scrap paper, only looking up in order to greet Yuuri, who awkwardly waved.

"Woah, Yuuri, you okay? You look sick." Phichit asked, buying Yuuri's dismissal of sickness as he drank some more water.

That irritating pain came back.

'Maybe I should as Viktor later,' he queried.

"Yo, apparently someone saw you shopping with Viktor Nikiforov on Saturday, is that true?" Phichit announced, more than asked, spiking the interest of Chris and JJ, both apparently deciding that their Sociology essays were irrelevant.

"Yeah I heard about that too, I didn't know you knew him?" Chris said, resting his head in his hand.

"Oh um, you see, I ice skate, and I was down at the rink here and he met me there." He left out the minor detail of Viktor filming him, deciding that maybe it would be better if they didn't know.

"Wow... I though you'd meet eventually, seeing as you both skate."

"What's he like? No one here really knows him - keeps his circles small apparently." JJ commented, suddenly sounding interested.

"Well, he's pretty kind, got good humour, skilled at... things, doesn't like driving, um -"

"Things? What kind of things?" Phichit prompted.

"You know, like ice skating, er, doing jumps, and just stuff, y'know?" He said weakly, inwardly cringing at his friend's confused yet amused expressions.

"Well, I don't think we do know, but, er, what ever floats your boat, if you catch my drift." Chris winked, turning back to his essay. 

Yuuri looked around the room for Otabek, who was texting under the table, presumably talking to Yuri.

Phichit gave Yuuri his compulsory update on his hamsters for the remaining tutor period, while Yuuri thought solely of Viktor and what may or may not have happened the night before, his worry increasing further and further.

The rest of the day continued in a rather mundane manner. Being in the Sixth Form, he had a few frees, and so spent most of his time sat outside trying to get some fresh air and stop feeling so ill. He'd nearly thrown up during second period, and left wondering how on earth he was managing to be in school with a hangover. In the lessons he did have, he spent them quietly, just getting on with work and trying to ignore anyone. To his shock, he'd heard more than one insult be directed his way, mainly picking up on his quiet behaviour, glasses and ethnicity. Ignoring them in such small classes wasn't easy either.

The bell for lunch allowed him to escape his misery and break out into the corridor and head straight for the exit toward the benches. Upon arrival, to his relief, Viktor was sat reading a book on the exact bench he was heading for. He almost broke into a run to get there and slid next to Viktor with possibly a little too much enthusiasm. He knocked Viktor's arm and nearly jolted the book out of his hand. The silver haired boy instantly looked up and a perfect smile broke out over his face.

"Yuuri, I hoped you'd be here. How's your day been?" He asked sweetly, giving his full attention to his friend.

"Um, yeah it's been okay, I guess, apart from a load of insults that the other students think I don't understand, haha..." He faked a laugh, hoping to understate his misery but still get the message across. It seemed he hadn't understated it enough,

Viktor frowned.

"Who? What were they saying?"

"Oh, I don't know their names. They were saying how I probably can't see out of my own eyes which is why I need glasses and that I'll never make it here and I should just go back to Japan where I belong, stuff like that." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he waited for Viktor's response.

"Viktor?"

"Sorry... I'll be back later. Um, here's my number in case you need anything. Sorry Yuuri, I just need to take a breather somewhere..."

Viktor scribbled a number onto a spare piece of paper before storming back into the school building, leaving Yuuri alone, staring after him.

'Well done, you've scared him off and made him angry at once, good one.'

He passed the hour watching other students play basketball around the court and wishing he could be anywhere but there. Not only had he made Viktor leave him, he still didn't know what happened last night and it'd been bothering him far more than he should.

'What if I said something? Maybe that's why he's angry...'

He checked his timetable and realised he had the rest of the day off, to his relief. He grabbed his rucksack and instantly made his way to the only place he could really calm down.

\----------------------------

The chill of the ice was welcome to Yuuri, who had been feeling too hot from the gazes of other students burning into him for the past few hours. He plugged his phone into the speaker, after adding Viktor's number, and then decided to skate to anything.

He glided around the ice with little attention to form or technique, all he wanted was to feel anything that wasn't his current state. Song after song came on until he almost collapsed on this ice in exhaustion.

Hauling off his skates, he made his way to his phone and picked it up, his eyes widened as he read the time: 18:37 and frustratingly, his phone was on 4% battery.

School closed over an hour ago.

Thankfully, the gates remained open until 7pm to cater for sports clubs and other curricular and extra curricular activities and staff. He traipsed back over to the locker room, ready to just pick up his stuff and leave, when he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hello, Yuuri."

Yuuri instantly started to edge back out the door, his heart rate picking up massively and his eyes widening.

'No... no. Please, not now.'

"Please, Yuuri, don't run away, I just want to chat!" Mikhailov stood from the bench on which he'd been perched, slowly stepping toward where Yuuri was stood.

"... About w-what?" Yuuri choked, looking at the floor as he edged even further back.

"Oh, I don't know, about life? Love? You? Me? How you made Plisetsky ignore my orders?" Alexei's tone darkened with each word, the sound sending chills down his spine as he knew that this 'chat' would not end well for him.

"W-where are your friends?" Yuuri stammered, hoping to be buy himself some time.

"Ah, I sent them home - thought this was a bit more of a... personal... conversation. Is that okay with you?"

It wasn't a question.

"Uh, yes... I suppose."

Mikhailov gestured for Yuuri to come back into the room, he too retreating and sitting back down, patting the seat next to him.

"You see Yuuri, there's a very specific way that I run this school," he grinned a fake grin as Yuuri sat, looking about seven years younger in physical build compared to Mikhailov.

Yuuri tried to calm his breathing and focus on an escape plan, but Alexei was keen to have his full attention. He pulled an arm around Yuuri's shoulders, causing him to flinch and dig his nails into his leg, biting his lip to prevent him from doing something pathetic.

"The way it is, is I decide who has a good life here, and then let them do what they want. People who have a problem with that, say... Viktor Nikiforov, get a bit different treatment."

"Viktor?" Yuuri gulped.

"You know him, don't you Katsuki. You were seen together on Saturday. What were you doing?" Mikhailov caught Yuuri's eye and held the gaze, relishing the fear flashing across his hazel eyes.

"I uh, we um... we-"

"I haven't got all day, kid, spit it out." He said, bluntly.

"We were shopping." Yuuri spluttered, before tearing away from the other boy's gaze and staring at the floor, his skin crawling.

"Shopping, huh? Like an errand run? Or a day with a friend? Or... a date?" 

"A date? Haha, no - we were just buying things for me apartment."

'Shouldn't have said that. Oh no...'

Mikhailov's grip tightened on his shoulder and he raised his eyebrow.

"Really... that's interesting. You know... I don't appreciate liars, Katsuki."

Yuuri's heart dropped into his stomach.

"W-What? I'm not lying to you-" He began, but was interrupted by Mikhailov, who stood up abruptly and hauled Yuuri up by his shirt.

"Don't speak back to me, you little bitch. I know you're a liar! I've read your application, I knew you skated before you even got here, and then you have the nerve to make Plisetsky go against me!" Mikahilov's words were sharp, and cut through Yuuri like knives.

"What's Yuri got to do with it? He's a good kid and-"

"Shut UP! You're like Nikiforov aren't you? All smug and full of yourself, thinking you can tell me shit that isn't true - that doesn't work on me anymore."

"But I'm not lying to you!"

"You are! You really think I was gonna let you get away after humiliating me that day? Did you seriously think I was going to let you go free? What a joke. Come on, Katsuki, I thought you were smart."

Yuuri shook free from his grip, making a run for the door, but big arms wrapped around his torso and flung him into the wall.

'Shit, no, I need to get out of here.'

A tear escaped his eyes as he straightened up, wincing at the new pain in his back.

"Aw, how sweet. Where's your silver prince now, huh? Not here? Didn't think so."

Yuuri backed his hands against the wall, trying to stand, but the other boy laughed.

"Did I say you could stand? Get the fuck back on the floor where you belong, bitch," he cracked his knuckles before sending a punch to Yuuri's face, the impact sending shock waves through his skull. The back of his head hit the wall and the world began to spin - then it started to fall as Mikhailov delivered a kick to Yuuri's shins, collapsing him onto the floor.

Yuuri yelled in surprise as Mikhailov pulled him into a sitting position, Yuuri's back against his and his arm twisted into an unnatural position, causing him to cry out in pain.

"Please, please just let me go..." he whimpered, more tears falling down his face as he felt blood drip from his nose and on to the floor. 

Never before had he been in so much pain.

"Listen here, my little Yuuri. You are nothing. You are absolutely nothing to him. In his eyes you are an object - a mere toy with which to pass the time. He doesn't care about you. None of your so called 'friends' do. Where was Phichit last week when you needed him. He was just sat watching, wasn't he Yuuri? Isn't that sad?" The monster's voice dripped venom and the arms constricting Yuuri felt more like snake skin, sliding against his and grating against his soul. The edges of the creature's hair brushed the back of his neck like barbed wires, sending shocks of terror and blinding pain down his aching spine. His mind pumped with toxic words as his epiphany hit.

"Nothing..." He choked out.

"That's right," demon whispered, sickly sweet, "you are nothing, aren't you?"

Yuuri nodded, slowly, his body beginning to shake as he felt panic wash over him.

Suddenly the monster's grip was gone and as Yuuri turned around, it delivered one final punch to his face, sending him head first into the wall.

"It's a shame really, that I've had to beat up your pretty face this way. Maybe your little ice king won't love you anymore, now that you don't look as perfect as his precious ice." Alexei smiled before turning and heading out the door flicking the light off, leaving Yuuri alone and shaking.

As Yuuri's hands began to shake more, he tried to stand, but fell back down, helpless, the pain was too great.

He managed to drag himself toward his phone, that had been knocked in the chaos and landed somewhere.

1%

He made a new contact for Viktor and with blurry vision, managed to type out one word before his breathing seized and he tipped over the edge into a full blown panic attack.

\----------------------------

Viktor was laying on his sofa, his dog laid between his legs, happily sighing as the boy played with his ears.

"Dammit..." he whispered to himself.

'I shouldn't have left him so quickly. He clearly needed my help." He hit the side of the sofa, breathing an apology to the startled animal.

He had almost lost his temper, a side of him he did not wish for Yuuri to see. 

All he wanted was the names of those who'd hurt Yuuri, and to let them know who they were messing with but, instead, he ended up punching a wall.

He stared at the bandage on his fist and sighed.

"Idiot..." he muttered.

Then, his phone went off.

He slid it out of his pocket and switched the screen on.

**Unknown Number:**

**help**

His eyes widened, instantly knowing who it was.

He messaged back in a heart beat.

**Yuuri? Is that you?**

**What's happened? Are you okay?**

**Yuuri?**

**Hello?**

**Please answer me**

**Please**

**What's wrong?**

**Where are you?**

**I'll come and get you?**

**Are you at home?**

**Yuuri?**

**Yuuri please**

_**Call, no answer** _

**Yuuri!?**

_**Call no answer** _

**I'm coming to your house**

Viktor grabbed some shoes and sprinted out of the house, practically vaulting down the stairs and grabbing his car keys. He could hear his father yelling at him from the living room, but like normal, he ignored it.

He flung the front door open, unlocking his car as he continued to sprint. He ignored all speed limits on his way to Yuuri's apartment, nearly causing several accidents, but did he care?

Not in the slightest.

He remembered the pin that Yuuri had punched in and was through the door before it was even properly open.

He took the stairs three at a time, silently thanking his physical abilities and sprinted once more to Yuuri's door, his jacket flying behind him. He skidded to a halt at the door and slammed on it for dear life, his worry finally catching up to him.

"Yuuri! Yuuri it's Vitya! Let me in!" He panted, putting his face against the door and listening out for any kind of sign.

It was 7:30pm. He should be home by now, right?

His phone suddenly started ringing and he scrambled for it in desperation. Without even checking the caller ID, he answered.

"Yuuri!?"

_"Viktor, Viktor, Viktor. You really need to learn to protect your belongings."_

Viktor froze.

"Mikhailov? What have you done?" He growled, gripping the phone tighter and ignoring his bruised fist as he hit the floor.

_"We just had a little chat... and then I left him to have a sleep. Is that okay?"_

"Where is he? ANSWER ME!"

_"Woah, you need to chill dude. But I will tell you where he is."_

"Well?"

_"He's where you lost it."_

The line went dead.

Viktor's blood turned to ice.

'The rink'.

He gathered himself back up before sprinting back out the building.

He stepped on his car's accelerator before he'd even shut the door as his tires left marks on the parking space.

His knuckles turned white around the steering wheel, praying to any god that Yuuri was okay.

His vision was cloudy... was he crying?

He was crying.

'I never cry...'

A painful half hour later, he ditched his car in some trees around the back of the campus, pulling his phone out and switching on the torch. He fought his way through the foliage, eventually arriving in the school field. Without thinking, he took off in the direction of the rink. As the doors approached, he came stumbling to a stop, his sore hands fumbling around the handles.

It was open.

He slammed it open, announcing his presence to the ice before he yelled.

"YUURI!" 

He paused for a second.

There was silence.

Was Mikhailov lying?

He contemplated the idea seriously, bet then realised: it was a sick enough idea and Alexei Mikhailov is a sick minded person.

He made his way through the rest of the building, checking the skate racks and the stalls before heading for the locker rooms. He switched on the light.

"Oh, Yuuri..." 

Viktor choked back tears as his knees buckled.

Yuuri was laid on his back, his arm outstretched and holding his phone, his other arm was twisted painfully and his face and shirt was covered in blood, His eye was swollen and his lip split, the light glint of tears reflecting off the golden light.

Viktor dragged himself over to Yuuri, not daring to touch his arm and instead taking his other hand and cradling his head in his lap.

"Yuuri... Yuuri, darling, can you hear me?" 

The blank expression on Yuuri's face ripped through Viktor, his tears finally flowing and mingling with the blood that had streamed out the other boy's nose.

"Yuuri... please." He whispered.

Yuuri's eyes shifted to Viktor's, the dazed hazel meeting cloudy blue.

Another tear slipped onto his bloody face as he croaked.

"Why me?"

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then. I feel evil.
> 
> Is it good evil though?
> 
> Your comments are what encourages me to keep writing this so please, let me know what kind of content you want to see and whether or not you like what I'm writing! :)


	11. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor comes to terms with what has happened to Yuuri and struggles to contain his emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back, under 24 hours later ;)
> 
> I hope you like it!

"Why me?" Yuuri croaked again, and Viktor simply shook his head as he brushed the hair out of the other boy's face.

"I... I don't know, Yuuri. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off earlier, I should have realised that you wanted to talk, I'm sorry," Viktor cried, whipping his face with the back of his bandaged hand.

"It's okay, it's not your fault... what's wrong with your hand?"

"Oh, nothing, I'm fine. D'you think you can stand? We need to get you to hospital." Viktor brushed off his injury, far more concerned about Yuuri than himself.

"I-I don't want to move yet... it hurts." Yuuri spoke quietly, not meeting the other boy's eye.

"What even happened?" Viktor asked gently, reaching into his pocket for a tissue and whipping fresh tears off Yuuri's face.

"I, uh, well after you left, I went skating, and I was there for ages. When I came to get my stuff, he was waiting for me. He asked me what we were doing on Saturday, and then called me a liar. Then this happened."

Viktor's anger toward himself grew as Yuuri spoke. If he hadn't left, this wouldn't have happened. If he hadn't left, he could have stopped this.

Even from his position, Yuuri could sense Viktor's tensity, and hear his breathing become harder.

"Vitya, please don't blame yourself for this, it wasn't your fault. I should have run away, I should have fought back-"

"But you shouldn't  _have_ to fight back! It's not fair... I don't want bad things to happen to you Yuuri." Viktor raised his head and looked at the ceiling, trying to calm himself. He didn't want to snap. Not now.

"But, maybe I deserved it, y'know? Like, he said that I humiliated him when I made Yuri leave me alone last week. I should have just let it happen then and then it wouldn't have been so bad now... Viktor?"

Viktor was slowly shifting Yuuri's head onto the floor, using his hand as a cushion to avoid knocking his head. Then, he stood up and started looking around the locker room.

"Yuuri, your head is bleeding, we need to try and stop it while you get the strength to move okay?"

"Oh, okay..." Yuuri lay still, watching Viktor open random lockers for anything that could act as a bandage.

"What about my scarf? It's in my bag," he suggested. Viktor looked at him questioningly before grabbing the bag and unzipping it. After a few moments of rustling, he pulled out the scarf and Yuuri's water bottle. He set the bottle down gently onto the floor and then sat cross legged behind the injured boy.

"You need to try and sit up, can you try?" Viktor stitched his eyebrows in concern, but Yuuri nodded and so Viktor hooked his arm under Yuuri's good arm and placed his other hand on his back, gently easing him upward.

"Stop, stop, stop, hang on," Yuuri winced, gritting his teeth in pain, so Viktor stilled immediately.

Yuuri breathed deeply, before sitting the rest of the way up, his arm still twisted.

Viktor stroked his shoulder comfortingly, silently congratulating and thanking Yuuri. He then proceeded to wrap the scarf around the boy's head, the material quickly turning red.

'Stay calm, it's going to be fine, he'll be okay.' Viktor told himself.

"Is it bad?" Yuuri asked shakily, and Viktor simply told him it was a small cut, and played down its severity. The last thing he wanted was for Yuuri to panic.

"Hey, is your phone flat by any chance?" The Russian asked in a lighter tone, in an attempt to distract Yuuri from his pain.

"Yeah it is, I was on 1% battery when I texted you. I just had to hope you'd find me, and you did." An element of surprise mingled with Yuuri's voice.

"Why, are you surprised that I did?" Viktor joked, bit Yuuri didn't reply.

"What's wrong?" He asked, leaning over Yuuri's shoulder and to his dismay, he was crying again.

"Oh, honey, don't cry, it's okay, I'm here now." He shuffled on the floor to be in front of Yuuri, though to his frustration, he could not hug him without upsetting his injuries.

"It's just, he said, he said that you - oh it doesn't matter." Yuuri cried, sniffing and turning his head away from Viktor, whose heart shattered to see Yuuri so distraught.

"You can tell me, if you want, you know I'll listen," he said softly, but sighed as Yuuri's gaze didn't move and he remained silent.

After a few minutes of silence, the other boy spoke up.

"I, I think I can move now," he whispered and so Viktor stood up in an instant.

"Your arm will seriously hurt, you know that, right?" Viktor warned him, not wanting pain to take the already shaken boy by surprise.

Yuuri just nodded and so Viktor bent down and gently gripped Yuuri by the underarms. He began to lift and with a grunt of effort, got Yuuri to his feet. However, Yuuri cried out in pain, dropping back onto the floor in pain and then nearly screaming when his twisted arm hit the floor.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'll call an ambulance-" Viktor began, reaching for his phone.

"No, don't! I don't want to be a nuisance." Yuuri wailed, fresh tears flooding his face as he cradled his arm.

"But..." Viktor began, "okay, fine." He decided.

Instead, he put on Yuuri's rucksack, bent down once more and hooked one arm under Yuuri's knees, the other around his back, and lifted. Yuuri's good arm instantly grabbed around his neck for support as his injured arm lay in his lap, and his head rested against the other boy's chest, the blood from the scarf rubbing off onto his shirt.

Viktor then carried Yuuri out of the building, as carefully as he could and not bothering to turn off any lights or shut the doors. He kept talking to Yuuri as they walked, to make sure he didn't pass out. He only asked simple questions, about his favourite colour and what he liked to eat back in Japan, and though he had no idea what 'katsudon' was, he just nodded and agreed with everything Yuuri said. When the reached the car, he gently propped the injured boy against the frame of vehicle and then opened the passenger seat. Yuuri then managed to successfully, but painfully, shuffle into the seat, and Viktor cautiously placed the seat belt over him. Sliding in behind the wheel, Viktor had to contain his desire to speed as fast as he could to the hospital, and tried his best to drive smoothly and avoid pot holes in order to let Yuuri be as comfortable as possible.

Yuuri seemed distant, his answers becoming shorter and shorter as they got further to the hospital. He winced a few times but he didn't cry, just stared, stared at nothing.

Yuuri felt hollow. Mikhailov's words echoed around his head and the venom seemed to seep into his blood, filling him with emptiness and self rejection.

'He doesn't want me. He's pretending. I'm just an object for him. I'm just his entertainment. He'd turn his back if you told him to.'

Without registering their arrival, Yuuri felt himself being lifted back into Viktor's arms and being carried through the doors of the building. He remained silent as a nurse instantly rushed to them upon seeing Yuuri's state and he simply nodded as the nurse told him he was taking them to a bed. He just stared.

'You're just a nuisance, Yuuri.'.

Viktor was the one to speak to the nurse, telling him that he'd been assaulted in the street, not wanting to say he was beaten up in school, knowing that Yuuri would not want some kind of investigation. To Viktor's relief, the only 'big' problem was Yuuri's arm. Thankfully, it was sprained and not broken. The nurse scanned for a concussion, and, as though a miracle had struck, Yuuri did not have a concussion. The bleeding on his head stopped after some proper bandages were applied and the nurse stated that Yuuri would be able to walk without trouble soon enough. He provided them with a crutch just in case and then supported Yuuri's arm with a sling. As Viktor thanked him wholeheartedly, the nurse advised them to stop by a store and buy extra bandages to change when they got home and as they left, Viktor was handed a prescription for painkillers. 

The nurse had seemed completely unphased by Yuuri's silence but had seemingly picked up on Viktor's distress. As Yuuri practised using the crutch by walking out into the hallway, the nurse turned to him.

"Mr Nikiforov, you seem concerned about your friend's silence?"

"Oh, yeah, I just want him to talk to me but... he's just blanking out." Viktor sighed, slumping against the doorway.

"That's probably because he's trying to not worry you, and not think about what's happened. It's a shame that the perpetrator got away, as you said, criminals are getting better these days," the nurse reflected, heavy regret in his voice.

"Yes, well, I'm sure whoever did this to Yuuri will pay - I'll make sure of it."

\--------------------------

Yuuri was lying on his bed, propped up against the pillows. It was past midnight but Viktor had insisted that he wait until he was allowed more painkillers, to allow him more peaceful sleep. He'd muttered 'okay' and that was about it, not wanting to be of trouble to him.

'He must be tired, rushing around like that.'

After a few minutes of nothing, Yuuri decided to get up, he reached for his crutch and managed to shift out of bed. Making his way carefully into the front room, he found Viktor braced over the hob, knuckles white over the edge of the counter and his hair ruffled.

"Viktor?" Yuuri announced his presence, startling Viktor who whirled around, a wild look in his eye. His tense face seemed to relax but he still looked... off.

"Yuuri, you shouldn't be out of bed yet, please go back." He said sweetly, but his voice was deeper than normal.

"Viktor... what's wrong?" Yuuri approached him, touching his back lightly.

"Nothing I'm fine - here are your pills." The Russian said, handing Yuuri a glass of water and two capsules. Yuuri placed the capsules on his tongue and then took the water, unable to hold two things at once because of the sling.

"Hey, Yuuri..."

"Yes?"

"Did... did Alexei say anything to you? Like, anything in particular?" Viktor turned to him, holding his good shoulder gently, his eyes scanning Yuuri's.

"Well, I guess, nothing that bad though." 

Yuuri desperately wanted to tell Viktor what happened and for Viktor to hold him and tell him he's okay, but, he couldn't.

He knew after all, he was just a burden to him.

Viktor laughed, suddenly.

"Seriously? Nothing? Are you sure?" He said, a smile breaking onto his face and his grip on Yuuri's shoulder tightening.

"Yeah, I guess... Viktor are you okay?" Yuuri broke out of his grip and retreated to this sofa as Viktor stared at the floor.

"I know he said something, I knew it." Viktor whispered.

For the first time Yuuri felt scared of Viktor.

"Vitya?" He said, carefully.

Viktor walked to the sofa and sat himself next to Yuuri, his voice quiet.

"You know, if he said anything to you, you know you can tell me, Yuuri. Please... just talk to me. I can't stand this silence."

Yuuri looked into his eyes. He was hurting.

"I feel like... I feel like I can't - not right now, anyway." He looked to the floor as he heard Viktor sigh.

'And now you've disappointed him.'

"Yuuri?"

"Yes?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Do I... trust you?"

Viktor nodded.

Yuuri swallowed.

"I mean, I think so as in- I want to, but, argh I don't know." Yuuri struggled to find the right words to tell him that he desperately wanted to trust Viktor, but didn't have the confidence in himself to brush of what Mikhailov had told him.

Was he really just an object to Viktor?

"I see... He really did say something then. Why deny it, Yuuri, why? Why are you closing up on me?" Viktor grabbed Yuuri's hand, causing Yuuri to look up and catch his gaze.

The debate in Yuuri's head was heated. Should he tell Viktor what he said or should he just wait for a bit and let his feelings quell? What if Viktor understood? But what if he didn't?"

"He told me something that... that I've always known I guess, but I suppose he just confirmed it for me in a way..." Yuuri started.

"What did he say, Yuuri? I promise I won't be angry."

"He told me that you were just using me... and that I was nothing, to you or to anyone... just nothing." Yuuri's voice was filled with misery, misery which fuelled something inside Viktor.

Rage.

'I promised I wouldn't be angry, calm down.'

Viktor desperately tried to calm his breathing and flatten his breathing.

"Yuuri, you are not nothing and I am not using you. You are an incredible person and an incredible skater. I feel blessed to have met you and you are the new source of light in my life. Yuuri, I-I think I'm-" Viktor was about to say something but he noticed new tears had slipped out of the other boy's eyes.

"Vitya, I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of you guys." He sniffed, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Yuuri, don't think that - if anything, we don't deserve  _you_ so please don't think any less of yourself because everyone is valuable and everyone is precious, apart from those who hurt us, okay?" Viktor held Yuuri's hand between both of his, gently massaging his palm as he spoke, partly to comfort Yuuri and partly to prevent him punching another wall.

"...okay." Yuuri didn't seem convinced, but it would do for now.

Viktor smiled, genuinely, before standing up. He was about to ask Yuuri if he wanted some more water, when the injured boy yawned.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Kinda."

"Well then, bedtime!" Viktor declared, and before Yuuri could reach for his crutch, he picked him up, gently, and carried him to the bedroom.

"You don't have to carry me, you know?" Yuuri giggled, as Viktor placed him gently onto the mattress and slowly leaned him against the stack of pillows he'd built earlier.

Viktor handed him a hand mirror, a toothbrush and tooth paste, to which Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

"Dental hygiene is important, Yuuri." Viktor stated.

Yuuri reluctantly picked up the mirror and looked at himself, his face falling.

"I look horrendous..." he whispered, staring at his split lip and blackening eye.

"No you don't, you'll always be beautiful to me."

Yuuri flushed.

"Huh?"

But Viktor had disappeared.

He then began to brush his teeth and a few moments later, Viktor returned with a cup that Yuuri could split into.

When he was done, he passed back the cup and Viktor laughed.

"Maybe I could make a Yuuri clone with your saliva - wouldn't that be weird?"

Yuuri frowned, "very weird, so please don't."

Viktor giggled as he walked out the room, but as soon as he was in the main room, his face dropped and he reached for his phone, dialling Yuri's number.

As it rang, he emptied the cup out into the sink and filled it with water, swirling it around to clean it a bit before he left it in the bowl.

_"Viktor, it's 1am what the fuck do you want?"_

"It's Yuuri."

_"What about him?"_

Yuri was clearly uninterested.

"Mikhailov beat him up," he said, his voice low so that Yuuri wouldn't hear.

_"What? When? Where? Is he okay?"_

Maybe he was interested now.

"He found him at the rink after school and beat him bad - had to take him to hospital."

_"Shit... Viktor are you okay? You don't sound yourself."_

"I'm just mad I suppose, I left him at lunch when he clearly needed my help. If I hadn't, none of this would have happened."

_"How so? He may have gone to skate anyway, so it's not necessarily your fault."_

"I suppose."

Viktor could feel his anger rising again, thinking of Mikhailov's face and thinking back to that time... it made his blood burn.

_"Oi, are you there?"_

"Yeah, I'm still here," he growled.

_"Viktor, you really need to calm down - we both know that you getting angry doesn't end well, I'm sure you remember what happened last time... and I'm not talking about punching walls."_

"How do you know about that?"

_"Word spreads fast at that school whenever you do something, don't forget."_

"Hm."

 _"How's Yuuri?_ _"_

"He's got a crutch and his arm is sprained, how do you think he feels?"

_"Yeah, that's pretty rough... what're you going to do?"_

Viktor walked quietly over to the bedroom, opening the door a small amount, allowing light to flood onto the bed and reflect off Yuuri's bruised but resting face. The sleeping boy shuffled in his sleep, moving his arm to lay on his chest, a contented sigh passing through his slightly parted lips. His hair brushed against his eyelids, the stark black bold against the pale skin and purple bruises. Viktor's eyes fell on those bruises, those marks of assault, and finally on the slinged arm and crutch balanced against the side table.

No one would touch his Yuuri again.

_"Viktor?"_

"I'll kill him."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that enough of a cliffhanger for you?
> 
> *evil laughter can be heard in the distance*
> 
> Thank you for all your lovely comments by the way, I really love reading them :) <3


	12. Legal Disposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor decides it's time to shut down Mikhailov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

_“Don't give me bullshit like that. I know you won't do that."_

"How do you know? I have a clear enough motive, haven't I?"

_"Viktor, Yuuri will recover, it's not the end of the world - there's no point going and killing someone and ending up in jail forever... you wouldn't be able to see Yuuri either."_

Viktor went to hit the wall in annoyance but stopped himself, knowing he'd wake Yuuri up. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew that Yuri was right. If he did kill Mikhailov, seeing Yuuri would be almost impossible. Even though his hatred was strong enough and his reason for wanting to end that monster's life were perfectly valid in his eyes, he had to think of Yuuri, not just himself.

"Fine then. No murder."

_"Thank you. Please Viktor, don't do something you'll instantly regret."_

"I'll speak to Yakov." He stated, suddenly deciding that maybe he could remove Alexei legally.

" _Yakov? I doubt he'll listen, but you can try, I suppose."_

"I'll talk to him, see if he'll see sense."

_"Will Yuuri be in tomorrow?"_

"I don't know... I'll ask him how he feels tomorrow."

_Okay... well, you've wasted enough of my precious sleeping time so get your angry ass to bed and sleep."_

With that, Yuri disconnected the call, and Viktor sighed. In his mind, thoughts started accumulating as to how he could convince Yakov to expel Mikhailov, knowing that the head teacher would be reluctant to hear him out, seeing as the bully was the son of a school governor, and sponsor.

This is what happens when the 'adults' turn a blind eye.

He rubbed his temples before walking toward the bed, easing himself under the duvet carefully to avoid upsetting Yuuri's sprain. His head felt heavy and his reflexes too sharp; he was on edge and couldn't relax, so he lay and stared at the ceiling, knowing that looking at the boy next to him would only strengthen his anger and black desire to find Mikhailov, and slit his throat.

\---------------------------

Yuuri decided the next morning that he didn't want to be seen in school. Initially, Viktor had to tried to convince him otherwise, thinking that if he could bring him to Yakov, Alexei would be kicked out before the next bell. However, Yuuri's shaky voice and winces of pain pierced through Viktor's haze of determination and red vision, and so he left Yuuri propped up in bed with a cup of tea and soup on the bedside table. He kissed his forehead on his way out of the bedroom, earning a smile from the other boy.

"Have a good day!" Yuuri called as Viktor left the flat. Part way down the corridor, he stopped, his paranoia taking over him. Quietly, he crept back toward the door and turned the handle as slowly as he could. Taking as few steps as possible, he made his way to the counter, where Yuuri had placed the apartment key. He slid it into his pocket and returned to the corridor, closing the door and turning the key, until it locked with a soft 'click'.

'Please don't hate me, Yuuri. I'm doing this for you.' He convinced himself, before stuffing the key into his coat pocket.

His drive to the school was tense. His eyes fazed in and out of focus and his hands tensed and un-tensed around the steering wheel, the muscles in his shoulders tightening. He arrived at the school unlike himself. He did not smile, he did not wave at people he knew, he did not text Yuri to ask if he'd woken up yet, he just walked, slowly into the building. Unfortunately, his day was full until lunchtime, though to say he did any work would be a lie. Whenever anyone so much as looked at him, he met their gaze with blades of ice. Walking between corridors, he looked around, hoping to see Alexei, so he could either punch him in the face, or kill him.

As the bell for lunch rang, he stood up immediately, grabbing only his bag and leaving his work on the desk. Despite his teacher's call of 'the bell doesn't dismiss you Mr Nikiforov, I do,' he swung the classroom door open and spun on his heel, in the direction of the headmaster's office.

As he walked, he headed past the canteen, where he heard a familiar voice.

Stopping by the double doors, he scanned for the owner of the voice, and nearly growled when he saw who it was.

Ivan stood over some year eight kid, laughing as the child scrambled in his bag, for money, Viktor assumed. Yuri stood not to far behind him, holding the collar of the kid's friend, who was squirming in an attempt to try and escape. When the first kid eventually found what he was looking for, Ivan snatched from him with a smirk.

"Seriously? Only that much? Pathetic."

He tossed the wallet to Yuri and told him to take the money, which to Viktor's horror he did. But, then, while Ivan was too busy insulting the first kid, Yuri handed the money to the one he was holding, who looked at him with wide eyes, but the blonde gave him a look that read 'don't tell.'

As Viktor turned to leave, remembering here he needed to be, someone tapped his shoulder.

He whirled around, half expecting it to be Mikhailov, but relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Hey, Otabek. Um, now isn't really a good time - I'm going to see Yakov." He said, shifting his weight and waiting for Otabek to let him past.

Otabek looked over the taller boy's shoulder and he frowned as he saw Yuri with Ivan.

"What about?"

"Mikhailov."

"...Why?"

"I need to get rid of him, and Yuri said murder is out of the question so, y'know."

"Oh, well at least let me come with you. You're not the only one who wants to see the back of that pathetic excuse of a man," he muttered, watching Yuri disappear amongst the crowd of the canteen.

Viktor was reluctant to let him come for a moment, but then realised that Otabek probably had more insight on what Mikhailov does on a day to day basis, and so tugged him by the arm and started walking.

"Come on then."

Otabek had to walk quickly to keep up with the taller boy's strides bu, he didn't mind. Maybe this meeting would end it all. Maybe Mikhailov would be gone. Maybe, he'd have his Yurochka back.

It had been so long. So long since he'd been truly happy.

"So what's the plan?" He asked, as they manoeuvred past a group of irritating year nines, blasting some obnoxious 'music' outside a classroom door.

"I don't know, really. We just go in, fight our case, and hope the man sees sense." Viktor was definitely on edge, eyes flitting all over the place and his usual heart shaped smile replaced with a look of thunder.

"What if he doesn't listen?"

"That won't be the outcome. I'll make sure of it."

"How can you make that promise though? You don't know what Yakov will say." Otabek countered, not wanting to fall into the trap of being sure that this meeting would go their way.

Viktor didn't respond.

"Viktor, don't tell me you're convincing yourself that this will be easy."

"What would you say if I was?" Viktor frowned.

"I'd call you a fool."

"I already am one, so that makes no difference to me."

Viktor suddenly turned down a quieter corridor, toward the staff rooms. They walked past cabinets of trophies and framed certificates. The taller boy slowed his speed to a more relaxed pace as they approached the Headmaster's office. He raised his hand to knock, when he heard the voice of Miss Baranovskaya.

"Mr Nikiforov, Mr Altin, what brings you down here?"

The pair turned to face her, greeted by her usual stern face and tightly drawn bun. 

"We were hoping to see Mr Feltsman, Miss." Viktor said confidently, and Otabek nodded.

"I see. Unfortunately, he is not in today." She stated, simply, and raised an eyebrow at Viktor's distraught expression.

"Is he really? Damn... I mean, do you know when he'll be back? It's quite important." He insisted.

"It is." Otabek added, hoping to add to the sense of urgency.

"He'll be back tomorrow. Is it something you can talk to me about?"

Viktor glanced at Otabek, who nodded his head in the woman's direction. He sighed before saying,

"Only if you're willing to talk about Alexei Mikhailov."

A look of irritation flashed across her face.

"I'd be more than happy to. What's he done now?"

Viktor smiled. Had they just made a break through? Otabek, being usually so emotionless, surprised the teacher by putting on his best mournful expression.

"He beat up the new student, Yuuri Katsuki. Viktor had to take him to hospital, Miss, it's truly awful. He has a sling and a crutch and a black eye and everything!"

"Yes, okay Mr Altin, please calm yourself. Do you have any proof of this?"

Viktor jumped for his phone, pulling it to text Yuuri.

"I can text him and ask him to send me a picture of the discharge paper."

"Once you have that, please come and find me in my office." Baranovskaya said,before turning on her heel and walking further down the corridor.

**Viktor:**

**Heya Yuuri, sorry to disturb you, but could you but can you send me a pic of the hospital papers? Thanks**

"Did you text?" Otabek asked, peering at Viktor's screen.

"Yes, I did. Hopefully he'll reply quickly." Viktor shuffled his weight from foot to foot impatiently. When he heard the text notification noise, he half punched Otabek in the arm to show him the picture.

**Yuuri: (picture attached)**

**Yeah, sure, here it is.**

**Yuuri: Also, where's the apartment key? I can't find it.**

Viktor's heart jumped at the second message, having hoped that Yuuri wouldn't have tried to leave the flat before he came back. Not knowing what to say in reply, he left it, and tucked the phone back into his pocket, feeling more guilty than he would have liked.

This time, Otabek was the one to lead and dragged Viktor by the arm to Baranovskaya's office. The door was already open but Viktor shut it behind him.

"You have proof?" She asked, turning to them after sliding some documents into a cabinet. She then went to sit behind her desk, and looked up at them expectantly.

Viktor handed her the phone.

"I'm sure that'll be sufficient proof of this incident." Viktor said, his heart beating faster as the woman's eyes scanned the screen.

"It sure is, Mr Nikiforov. Please, tell me more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you go, no murderer Viktor, which is probably good.
> 
> Sorry it wasn't as long as normal, I got really distracted while I was typing but I don't like leaving things uncompleted for too long so I tried to finish it as best as I could which means it's a bit 'eh', but next chapter should be good (she says) :) 
> 
> I won't be able to update again for another 3-4 days because of general life things so sorry about that.
> 
> Thanks for reading, love you all! <3


	13. To The Bitter End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor goes up against Alexei for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so, so sorry!!
> 
> I was going to update this ages ago but then life happened and things got a bit crazy and I didn't have any motivation to do anything for weeks but I'm kinda back now. 
> 
> This chapter is pretty violent so I haven't exactly come back with fluff.
> 
> It's quite satisfying, though.

'Why do I feel like I'm in a court room?' Viktor mused, but then realised he was leaning on a table, fingers splayed, looking right into a metaphorical judge's eyes.

The room was silent, Otabek leaning against the door, eyes watching the clock as it ticked away. They didn't have long to plead their case before the end of lunch came around, so he cleared his throat to try and jolt Viktor into action.

"Alexei Mikhailov is first and foremost a bully. He manipulates, injures and marks others like a pathetic animal and has no remorse. He's using one student like a puppet and literally put another student in hospital, after beating him up and leaving him to bleed out. I think that's enough to call for immediate expulsion, don't you?"

The boy kept his eyes fixated on Miss Baranovskya's, who smiled wearily, taking Viktor aback.

"Your earnest is admirable Mr. Nikiforov, however your word alone is not enough evidence. That discharge document is valid, but, that was an incident outside of school hours and so-"

"So you can't do anything?! How is that fair? Yuuri could have died!" Viktor raised his voice, straightening his back and tensing, looking at the teacher in horror.

"That is not what I was going to say so please listen to me. If you can bring any other evidence or affected parties to me to back you up, that will be more than enough to build a case against Alexei, okay? I believe you, Viktor, so let me help you."

Otabek stepped forward, his patience wearing thin.

"He uses Yuri Plisetsky as part of his entourage, and if he goes against what he says, I get beat up by the other two. It's been happening for a while now nut he never wanted to say anything for fear of what would happen." 

His voice shook, and Viktor patted him lightly on the back, telling him he didn't have to admit anything, but the smaller boy looked him in the eye, and carried on.

"Not too long ago, he went to see Yuuri, knowing he was new. Yuuri said the wrong thing to him and then somehow persuaded Yuri to not listen to Mikhailov, who then set the other two onto me. I had to go to hospital."

Miss Baranovskya raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Altin, if you don't mind me asking... are you in a relationship with Yuri Plisetsky?"

Both Otabek's and Viktor's eyes widened and the smaller boy's lip shook as tears came into his eyes.

"Um... yes. Yes, I am. But there's nothing wrong with that! A-and Yuri hates having to be around Mikhailov and he hates having to do bad things because really he's not like that - he's kind and funny and smart and just wants to keep me safe, even though he's the one hurting and all I want is for that son of a bitch to be gone so he can be himself again, so please just expel him!" 

Otabek's hand flew to his mouth as the tears started falling from his eyes. Viktor froze for a minute. He'd never seen Otabek break down before like this. He was usually so stoic and calm.

He placed a hand on his shoulder and breathed in deeply. Otabek had confessed his greatest secret, so maybe he should too.

"There's more..." He began figuring out his words, just as the door opened. 

A panicked looking teacher ran into the office, out of breath and a phone in hand.

"Lilia! It's an emergency, you need to come right now!" The teacher waved her over urgently and the deputy did not hesitate in following as the two took off down the corridor.

Viktor looked to Otabek who appeared just as curious as he did, wiping away the tears from his face. At the same time, and with no exchange of words, they broke into a run after the teachers, but their blood turned cold with horror as they heard what had happened.

"Alexei Mikhailov has started a fight with Yuri Plisetsky, but Mikhailov has drawn a knife. I've called the police and they're on their way, but we need to try and calm him down if we can."

"Where are they?"

"The canteen."

The four continued to run but Otabek and Viktor easily over took the teachers as their anger over took themselves.

As they approached the scene, they both elbowed their way through the crowd of students, cries of "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" echoing around the hall. Being older students, the crowds parted reasonably easily, but what they saw made them wish they'd stayed in the office.

Yuri was crouched behind a canteen bench, breathing heavily and and alert, a bruise flourishing on the side of his face. Mikhailov faced him on the other side, a ferocious look in his eye and baring a knife in his right hand. If you looked at without the violence, it could have been a friendly game of tag, but the blade of the knife glinting in a patch of sun spilling through a crack in the blind kept reality severely grounded.

As Otabek finally processed what was happening, he tried to run toward Yuri, but Viktor grabbed his wrist and brought him to his side, locking him into a grip so that he wouldn't be able to do something stupid.

"Are you an idiot, Otabek!? You'll just make things worse. Yuri will be fine, I promise, just let the police handle it."

"You can't promise that!" Otabek yelled, struggling against Viktor, who didn't relent.

Yuri heard his boyfriends voice and looked up, scanning the crowd desperately. He needed to get out of there. He didn't want Beka to see him like this-

"Yuri, look out!!" Viktor yelled and the blonde boy snapped back to reality, just as he saw Otabek's messy hair and tear stained face; Mikhailov was vaulting over the bench, a fist aimed at Yuri's face.

Yuri dived out of the way, skidding onto the floor and grazing his knees before stumbling back up and running behind another bench.

"Why are you running, kid? Don't you want to show me what you've got?" Mikhailov taunted, following Yuri, who braced himself before lurching forward and landing a successful kick to Alexei's leg. The bigger boy winced before regaining his stature. He laughed.

"Is that it? Come on princess, you kick like a girl."

Yuri's face flushed with anger as he flung a punch at Mikhailov, who dodged and grabbed Yuri's wrist and pulled his arm behind his back, making the blonde cry out in pain.

Otabek yelled in horror but Viktor zoned out, thinking instantly about Yuuri, propped up in bed, his arm in a sling, too painful to move. 

Had Mikhailov done the same to Yuuri? Had Yuuri helplessly cried in the same way?"

He looked at Yurio, but saw Yuuri. He saw Mikhailov, but saw an enemy... a monster.

He dropped Otabek's arms and slowly walked out of the crowd toward Yuri.

"Oh look who it is. Can I help you?" Alexei smiled, tightening his grip on Yuri who winced.

"Viktor, go away, I can handle this!" He choked out, trying to break free.

"This isn't about you, Yuri." Viktor said flatly, not averting his gaze away from the lowlife holding his friend.

Miss Baranvonskya called Viktor's name and told him to step back, but the silver haired boy ignored him.

"This is between you and me, Alexei, so play nice and let Yuri go." 

After a moment or two, the grip around Yuri loosened and he stumbled forward, looking at Viktor in confusion as he walked quickly toward Otabek, who flung his arms around the boy and held him, not letting him go.

Without hesitating, Viktor balled his hand into a tight fist and swung it hard at Mikhailov, striking him firmly across the face, causing him to stumble.

His vision already red, Viktor approached him once more, kicking him in the side, winding him. Before he could recover, he then dropped to the floor and straddled him, limiting Alexei's movement.

"Get the fuck off me." He snarled, but Viktor punched him again, a satisfying cracking noise filling Viktor's ears as his nose broke, the sound of Alexei crying pain sweet music in his mind.

"This is revenge for what you did to Yuuri, you bastard." Viktor whispered, too quiet for the crowd of shocked-into-silence onlookers to hear.

Alexei laughed, but lowered his tone also.

"Oh Viktor, you should have heard him, screaming like a little girl and crying. It was quite pathetic."

Viktor recoiled as he imagined the sound,and in that moment Mikhailov grabbed Viktor by the collar of his shirt and swung him onto the back, Viktor yelling out in surprise and pain as he slammed into the hard wood floor.

"You may think you've gotten a one up on me, but you're wrong." He growled, as he held the knife to Viktor's throat. He began to panic, suddenly aware that his position was far from good and that Mikhailov could slit his throat if he really wanted to.

"You won't kill me, I know you won't." He said, his voice shaky as he tried to move his hand to Alexei's wrist and move him, but the bigger boy countered him and grabbed both his wrists, pinning them painfully onto the floor with one hand.

He was too strong for Viktor.

"I'm not an idiot, of course I won't kill you... but I want you to know that you'll never get rid of me, ever.

He cut Viktor's shirt in a diagonal line from the collar, the material slicing easily, Viktor's heart dropping into his stomach.

"W-What are you doing!" He yelled, the noise ripping out of his throat as Mikhailov then dug the blade into the Viktor's skin, over his heart and began to carve a line, the blood coating the side of Alexei's hand. 

"Scared? Your heart is beating rather fast, it's not good for your blood pressure."

Viktor felt faint, partly from the pain and partly from the fear, and just as the blade began to move once more, Mikhailov suddenly cried out and fell off Viktor, unconscious.

Viktor looked up and saw Otabek, a tray held tightly in his hands.

Before anything else, four policemen came streaming through the crowd armed with pistols. The officer in front took one look at Viktor and one look at Mikhailov and indicated to the unconscious boy, who a policewoman then handcuffed and with the help of her colleague, he was carried away down the corridor. 

Viktor felt someone holding his hand.

"Yuuri? Yuuri is that you?"

"Yes, it's me."

The silver haired boy smiled weakly and looked up, but he didn't see hazel eyes, he saw blue ones... and then blonde hair.

"No..." he muttered, "I want Yuuri..." his vision blurred and his eyelids drifted closed he passed out as his head knocked against the floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't my best chapter, sorry about that.
> 
> But regarding Mikhailov, is that the last of him? Or will I embody satan and bring him back? 
> 
> I guess we'll fine out because I haven't planned that far ahead yet lol sorry 
> 
> I don't know if anyone is still checking this for updates, I'd be surprised since I've been gone for so long but oh well :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)


	14. The Light at The End of The Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor returns to Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as the last chapter was kinda violent, I thought I'd make this one a bit nicer :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Someone pulling a knife on you is never a pleasant experience. Neither is being pinned down in front of a crowd of shocked students as your attacker marks you with a sharp blade for a pen. But above all, being sat up in a hospital bed accompanied by a policeman isn't the normal idea of a casual afternoon passtime.

The hospital room was pretty much the same as any other. Beds were lined up against the room, divided by papery blue curtains, tables stood by either side of each patient, housing water and books and flowers from those who cared. The floor was white and the walls were white and the blinds were white and the sheets were white... thank goodness for those blue curtains.

The endless blank abyss of white hurt Viktor's crystal eyes as he opened them. Realising where he was, and that he had company, he looked at the policewoman, who was perched on a chair that had been dragged over from elsewhere. As far as he knew, he was in the canteen, wanting Yuuri, and had then woken up in a room smelling of disinfectant and a faint floral scent. As he remembered what had just happened with Alexei, he tried to sit up, but a throbbing pain in the back of his head caused him to lie back down and grunt in frustration. As he went to feel the area the sensation came from, he felt he wasn't in his own clothes and was instead dressed in the odd plasticy tunic nonsense that all hospitals seem to insist on supplying.

The policewoman reached out and gently touched Viktor's elbow, telling him to take it easy and try to relax.

"Please, only talk to me when you feel you can." Her voice was soft yet authoritative, and Viktor could tell why she was the one sent to question him.

He sighed and readjusted the thin sheets.

"Well if I'm honest, I don't think there's much to say." He said, truthfully, and the woman nodded in understanding, opening the cover of a notebook.

"As I understand it, your attacker was a pupil at your school and had threatened another student, does that sound correct to you?"

"...Yes."

"And when you saw them fighting, you stepped forward and tried to take him on? Knowing he was armed?"

"Yeah I guess that's true."

He looked up to the ceiling, knowing that in retrospect, his actions had been foolish, but he himself knew why he'd done. For a moment, he was tempted to tell the policewoman about what Alexei had done to Yuuri, but reason told him that Yuuri would not want to press charges -  he's too forgiving.

"When you chose to fight Mr. Mikhailov, what was your thought process that decision?"

Viktor paused for a moment.

"He was twisting Yuri's arm... he needed help... so I stepped in to help him."

The policewoman stopped writing and looked at Viktor.

"Listen, Viktor, I know this is difficult to talk about, but, do you have a history with Alexei Mikhailov?"

Viktor's eyes narrowed.

"So what if I do?"

"There's no need to get defensive, you were not in the wrong in this incident. Yuri Plisetsky has already said to me that you stepped in to help him. All I am curious about is why Mr. Mikhailov was so desperate to... mark you, in the way that he did."

As she spoke, Viktor suddenly remembered his chest. Suddenly, he pulled the strap behind his neck undone and let the hospital dress pool around his ribs. He looked down and his fists clenched.

"Why the hell is this shit on my chest."

In a flurry of desperation, he went to pull off the carefully taped bandage that had been placed over his wound, but as he did so, a nurse came running over and grabbed his wrist.

"Please do not remove the dressing, your wound needs to heal properly or you will risk an infection, understand?"

Viktor's eyes locked with the nurse's and after a moment, he nodded and let his arm drop back onto the sheet.

"Alexei and I used to be friends... we aren't anymore, if you hadn't guessed." He admitted, turning to the policewoman once more.

"So, you think that it was solely his own decision to injure you in a way that was not an act of self defence?"

"Without a doubt." He answered, darkly.

The policewoman nodded once more and closed her notepad with one brief action.

"Is there anyone you would like me to call for you? A parent? Guardian?"

"Um... no."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Viktor didn't want his parents, he wanted Yuuri.

"Oh, um, by the way, is Yuuri okay?"

"Oh, Mr. Plistetsky? Yes, he got away with just a black eye and a sore arm, he was discharged a few hours ago."

Viktor's eyes widened.

"A few hours ago? What time is it?" He said, panic entering his voice.

She checked her phone.

"It's quarter past five."

'Yuuri is still locked in, shit.'

"Oh, fabulous, um, okay, can I go home now?"

Upon hearing such a question, the nurse returned, an unimpressed look in his eye. He told him that ideally he should wait over night and return home in the morning, but, Viktor's childish protest and whining irritated him, so he prescribed him antiseptics and fresh dressings to heal his chest wound, and told him to come straight back to the hospital if his headache hadn't disappeared in forty eight hours. His clothes and belongings were returned to him, but just as the policewoman turned to leave, Viktor stopped her.

"What happened to Alexei?"

"He's been expelled and placed under arrest. He will be sent to a Youth Institution for a suitable amount of time that will be decided by the experts at the detention centre."

Viktor smiled, sitting back down on the bed and laughing in disbelief.

"So... he's actually gone... like... actually and physically gone?"

"That is correct, Mr Nikiforov, he's gone."

\---------------------

As soon as Viktor left the hospital, he made his way to the bus stop and hopped on to the first one that arrived. His car was still parked at school so he decided to go an collect it another time - he just needed to get back to Yuuri now.

The journey couldn't have felt longer, and every traffic light seemed to favour red until eventually the vehicle stopped on the corner of Yuuri's apartment building. He practically flew out the door and speed-walked his way to the entrance to the building, punching in the code before flinging the door open. He leaped up the stairs, ignoring the pain in his head and chest and kept moving until he arrived outside of Yuuri's front door. He found the key and shoved it into the lock, suddenly realising he should try and come in calmly so he didn't concern Yuuri, and so opened the door at a more reasonably speed.

"Viktor? Is that you?" Yuuri called from inside the apartment, and Viktor released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and his heart swelled.

"Yes. Yes, it's me. Where are you?" He asked as he took off his shoes and coat and walked further into the room. Yuuri didn't have to answer as Viktor entered the wider space of the living area, and saw Yuuri curled up on the sofa, his arm still slinged and laid against his side. He wasn't wearing his glasses and his hair was tousled, and he was dressed in an oversized hoodie and pyjama bottoms.

"Where have you been? It's like six?" Yuuri asked, rubbing his eyes.

Viktor sat next to him on the sofa, wanting desperately to just embrace him and hold him and kiss him but because of his injured arm, he forced himself to remain calm.

"I was... I was in hospital."

Yuuri sat up straight, eyes widening.

"Hospital!? Are you okay? What happened!" Yuuri knelt onto his knees and reached a hand out to Viktor's cheek, moving his head gently and checking him for injuries, his eyes filled with worry. Viktor covered Yuuri's hand with his own and locked their fingers before lowering his arm.

"Otabek and I went to go and speak to Miss Baranovskya about Mikhailov and getting him expelled, but then some teacher interrupted us and told her that Alexei was having a fight with Yuri-"

"With Yurio? He's okay right? Mikhailov didn't hurt him? He's a strong kid but, well, so is Mikhailov..."

Yuuri fidgeted and took Viktor's hand once more, seeing the pain in the silver haired boy's face.

"... He did something to you Viktor, didn't he... he's hurt you."

Yuuri bit his lip, determined not to get emotional. This was about Vitya, he had to be strong, like he had been for him.

"He had a knife... and he cut me with it."

Yuuri's eyes widened further, and his hand began to shake in Viktor's, who squeezed it, as though lending him his strength.

"Oh, that's awful... where are you hurt?" Yuuri's voice shook and so Viktor, unable to say the words himself, knowing how grotesque they'd sound on his tongue, took Yuuri's wrist gently and placed it over his heart. Yuuri's fingers felt the dressings through Viktor's jacket, and looked up at him, they're faces now only inches apart.

Tears slowly crept into the Russian's eyes, Yuuri's breath warming him and his presence calming him, he was suddenly very aware of Yuuri's hand on his heart and their proximity, and the look of sympathy in other boy's eyes, and the dusty pink flushing his cheeks. 

Despite what that monster had thrown at them, there they were, still standing, and together.

Viktor gulped, a hand reaching around the back of Yuuri's head, his fingers tangling into the soft hair.

Yuuri's hand slid up Viktor's chest and gripped his shoulder, a tear slipping down his cheek, his lips parting.

"I don't want you to be in pain, ever." Yuuri whispered, squeezing Viktor's shoulder.

"And I swear that I will never leave your side." Viktor responded, wiping the tears off Yuuri's face with his thumb, leaning forward and placing his forehead against his.

"Yuuri... I, I love you." Viktor breathed, his heart racing as he made his confession.

Yuuri's face flushed harder as swallowed and replied.

"I... I love you too, Viktor." 

Viktor smiled, his blue eyes glistening like fresh snow in winter sun, as his soul seemed to give way to new life, and Yuuri smiled back, before pressing his lips against the silver haired boy's, and they kissed; sweetly and slowly, with love and with passion. The world slowed around them as Yuuri pulled back, his lips glistening and his eyes serene. 

"Hey, Viktor?"

"Hm?"

"You know... if you ever want to cuddle, you don't have to bribe me with food anymore..." He said, shyly, lowering his head.

"Aw, Yuuri, is that an invite?" The Russian replied, playfully.

"...Maybe." Yuuri retorted, gently pushing Viktor against the arm of the sofa, lifting his head and placing a cushion for comfort.

Viktor said nothing, and just watched with love as Yuuri then spread his legs and nestled himself against the good side of Viktor's chest, arranging his bad arm into a comfortable position before sighing contentedly as Viktor reached one arm around Yuuri's shoulder and stroked his hair, while his other arm laid on his leg, so he could hold his hand. 

Viktor closed his eyes and let himself feel at peace. The greatest threat to his happiness was gone, and his own ray of happiness was his, breathing rhythmically as he began to nod off. He let his fingertips feel the soft black hair and closed his own eyes, his own tiredness beginning to catch up to him as Yuuri's body heat began to warm him and his eyelids grew heavy. 

He didn't care that it wasn't even seven in the evening or that the lights were still on, because his love was with him, sleeping and he felt relaxed - more relaxed than he'd been in a while - and that was something he could be selfish over.

'Is this what happiness feels like?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write their confessions to each other for so long but had to wait for the right time, so I hope it was worth waiting for!

**Author's Note:**

> So... on a scale of one to ten, how horrendous was that? Hahaha
> 
> I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, I wrote this fairly late in the evening but I regret nothing
> 
> Rip my GCSE's :')


End file.
